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^  PRINCETON,  N.  J.  *# 


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Professor  Raymond's  System  of  COMPARATIVE  ^ESTHETICS 

I. — Art  in  Theory.     8°,  cloth  extra $1.75 

"  Scores  an  advance  upon  the  many  art-criticisms  extant.  .  .  .  Twenty  brilliant  chap- 
ters, pregnant  with  suggestion." — Popular  Science  Monthly. _ 

"A  well  grounded,  thoroughly  supported,  and  entirely  artistic  conception  of  art  that  will 
lead  observers  to  distrust  the  charlatanism  that  imposes  an  idle  and  superficial  mannerism 
upon  the  public  in  place  of  true  beauty  and  honest  workmanship." — The  New  York 
Times. 

u  His  style  is  good,  and  his  logic  sound,  and  ...  of  the  greatest  possible  service  to  the 
student  of  artistic  theories." — Art  Journal  (London). 

II.— The  Representative  Significance  of  Form.     8°,  cloth  extra.  $2.00 

"A  valuable  essay.  .  .  .  Professor  Raymond  goes  so  deep  into  causes  as  to  explore  the 
subconscious  and  the  unconscious  mind  for  a  solution  of  his  problems,  and  eloquently  to 
range  through  the  conceptions  of  religion,  science  and  metaphysics  in  order  to  find  fixed 
principles  of  taste.    .    .    .    A  highly  interesting  discussion." — The  Scotsman  (Edinburgh). 

M  Evidently  the  ripe  fruit  of  years  of  patient  and  exhaustive  study  on  the  part  of  a  man 
singularly  fitted  for  his  task.  _  It  is  profound  in  insight,  searching  in  analysis,  broad  in 
spirit,  and  thoroughly  modern  in  method  and  sympathy." — The  Universalist  Leader. 

"  Its  title  gives  no  intimation  to  the  general  reader  of  its  attractiveness  for  him,  or  to 
curious  readers  of  its  widely  discursive  range  of  interest.  ...  Its  broad  range  may  re- 
mind one  of  those  scythe-bearing  chariots  with  which  the  ancient  Persians  used  to  mow 
down  hostile  files." — The  Outlook. 

III. — Poetry  as  a  Representative  Art.     8°,  cloth  extra  .        $1.75 

"  I  have  read  it  with  pleasure,  and  a  sense  of  instruction  on  many  points." — Francis 
Turner  Palgrave,  Professor  of  Poetry \  Oxford  University. 

"  Dieses  ganz  vortreffliche  Werk." — Englische  Studien,  Universitat  Brcslau. 

"An  acute,  interesting,  and  brilliant  piece  of  work.  ...  As  a  whole  the  essay  deserves 
unqualified  praise." — N.  Y.  Independent. 

IV. — Painting,  Sculpture,  and  Architecture  as  Representative  Arts. 

With  225  illustrations.     8° $2.50 

^  "The  artist  will  find  in  it  a  wealth  of  profound  and  varied  learning  ;  of  original,  sugges- 
tive, helpful  thought    .     .    .     of  absolutely  inestimable  value." — The  Looker-on. 

"Expression  by  means  of  extension  or  size,  .  .  .  shape,  .  .  .  regularity  in  outlines 
.  .  .  the  human  body  .  .  .  posture,  gesture,  and  movement,  .  .  .  are  all  considered 
...    A  specially  interesting  chapter  is  the  one  on  color." — Current  Literature . 

"  The  whole  book  is  the  work  of  a  man  of  exceptional  thoughtfulness,  who  says  what 
he  has  to  say  in  a  remarkably  lucid  and  direct  manner." — Philadelphia  Press. 

V.— The  Genesis  of  Art  Form.     Fully  illustrated.     8°    .         .         $2.25 

"  In  a  spirit  at  once  scientific  and  that  of  the  true  artist,  he  pierces  through  the  mani- 
festations of  art  to  their  sources,  and  shows  the  relations,  intimate  and  essential,  between 
painting,  sculpture,  poetry,  music,  and  architecture.  A  book  that  possesses  not  only  sin- 
gular value,  but  singular  charm." — AT.   Y.  Times. 

"A  help  and  a  delight.  Every  aspirant  for  culture  in  any  of  the  liberal  arts,  including 
music  and  poetry,  will  find  something  in  this  book  to  aid  him." — Boston  Times. 

"It  is  impossible  to  withhold  ones  admiration  from  a  treatise  which  exhibits  in  such  a 
large  degree  the  qualities  of  philosophic  criticism." — Philadelphia  Press. 

VI. — Rhythm  and  Harmony  in  Poetry  and  Music.  Together  with 
Music  as  a  Representative  Art.     8°,  cloth  extra       .        $1.75 

"  Prof.  Raymond  has  chosen  a  delightful  subject,  and  he  treats  it  with  all  the  charm  of 
narrative  and  high  thought  and  profound  study." — New  Orleans  States. 

"  The  reader  must  be,  indeed,  a  person  either  of  supernatural  stupidity  or  of  marvellous 
erudition,  who  does  not  discover  much  information  in  Prof.  Raymond  s  exhaustive  and 
instructive  treatise.   From  page  to  page  it  is  full  of  suggestion." — The  Academy  (London). 

VII. —  Proportion  and  Harmony  of  Line  and  Color  in  Painting, 
Sculpture,  and  Architecture.     Fully  illustrated.    8°      .      $2.50 

"  Marked  by  profound  thought  along  lines  unfamiliar  to  most  readers  and  thinkers.  .  .  . 
When  grasped,  however,  it  becomes  a  source  of  great  enjoyment  and  exhilaration.  .  .  .  No 
critical  person  can  afford  to  ignore  so  valuable  a  contribution  to  the  aft-thought  of  the 
day."—  The  Art  Interchange  (N.  Y.). 

"  One  does  not  need  to  be  a  scholar  to  follow  this  scholar  as  he  teaches  while  seeming  to 
entertain,  for  he  does  both." — Burlington  Hawkeye. 

"  The  artist  who  wishes  to  penetrate  the  mysteries  of  color,  the  sculptor  who  desires  to 
cultivate  his  sense  of  proportion,  or  the  architect  whose  ambition  is  to  reach  to  a  high 
standard  will  find  the  work  helpful  and  inspiring." — Boston  Transcript. 

G.  P.  PUTNAM'S   SONS,   New  York  and  London 


RHYTHM  AND  HARMONY 

IN 

POETRY  AND  MUSIC 

TOGETHER  WITH 

MUSIC  AS  A  REPRESENTATIVE  ART 

TWO  ESSAYS   IN 

COMPARATIVE  ESTHETIC?  V 

0 

&IQU.  SEW' 


ffi;*fjs%% 


OCT  12  1909 

GEORGE    LANSING   RAYMOND,   L.H.D. 


PROFESSOR  OF  ESTHETICS  IN  PRINCETON  UNIVERSITY 

AUTHOR  OF   "THE  ORATOR'S  MANUAL,"   "ART  IN  THEORY,"    "THE    REPRESENTATIVE 

SIGNIFICANCE  OF  FORM,"   "POETRY  AS  A  REPRESENTATIVE  ART,"  "  PAINTING, 

SCULPTURE,     AND    ARCHITECTURE    AS    REPRESENTATIVE    ARTS,"    "THE 

GENESIS  OF  ART-FORM,"    "PROPORTION   AND    HARMONY  OF  LINE 

AND  COLOR  IN  PAINTING,  SCULPTURE,  AND  ARCHITECTURE," 

ETC. 


SECOND  EDITION  REVISED 


G.  P.  PUTNAM'S   SONS 

NEW    YORK  LONDON 

27   WEST  TWENTY-THIRD    STREET  24    BEDFORD    STREET,    STRAND 

Z\t  fmicherbochtr  |Jkss 
I909 


Copyright,  1894 

BY 

G.  P.  PUTNAM'S  SONS 
Entered  at  Stationers'  Hall,  London 


TCbc  Tfcnfcfcerbocfeer  fcrcss,  Hew  J?orfe 


PREFACE. 


"  11-JIS  tendency  is  to  systematize  that  which  is  beyond 
the  reach  of  systematic  exposition,"  "  to  formulate 
ideas  and  qualities  not  reducible  ...  to  formulae," 
"  full  of  learning  and  suggestive  as  the  book  is  .  .  .  one 
is  lost  in  its  infinite  wrinkles,"  "  fills  the  mind  .  .  .  with 
a  tremendous  lot  of  fancies," — such  are  the  comments 
with  which  some  are  now  qualifying  their  acknowledg- 
ments— very  late  in  many  cases — of  the  essential  differ- 
ences between  the  thought  presented  in  this  series  of 
essays,  and  in  previous  works  upon  the  same  subject. 
Were  there  proof  that  a  single  writer  of  such  comments 
had  made  a  sincere  endeavor  to  follow  the  lines  of  thought 
which  in  these  essays  have  been  developed  in , accordance 
with  the  simplest  principles  of  logic  and  common  sense, 
the  opinions  thus  expressed  might  be  entitled  to  grave 
consideration.  As  it  is,  they  are  very  apparent  utterances 
of  superficial  impressions,  such  as  naturally  occur  to  any 
one  who  has  not  looked  into  a  subject  deeply  enough  to 
be  fully  aware  of  its  complexities,  or  of  the  essential  im- 
portance and  possibility  of  analyzing  them. 

As  applied  to  the  essay  on  "  Rhythm  and  Harmony  in 
Poetry  and  Music,"  the  pre-judgments  of  every  one  of 
these  critics  would  agree  with  that  of  the  first  of  two  au- 
thors conversing,  a  year  or  more  ago,  in  language  somewhat 
as  follows :  "  No  one  can  explain  the  methods  underlying 


IV  PREFA  CE. 

the  subtle  harmonies  of  Swinburne's  lyrics."  "  Not  the 
first  who  attempts  it,  perhaps  ;  but  do  you  think  it  intrin- 
sically impossible?  "  "  If  he  could  explain  the  methods, 
he  could  produce  the  effects ;  and  we  can't  have  two 
Swinburnes."  "  Are  you  sure  of  your  inferences?  I  may 
be  able  to  explain  exactly  what  it  is  in  the  shading  or 
coloring  of  a  picture,  in  the  pose  or  gesture  of  a  figure, 
which  represents  the  meaning  that  attracts  and  charms 
me.  But,  unless  myself  a  painter,  I  can't  make  a  figure 
like  it."  "  What  object  would  your  explanation  gain 
then  ?  "     And  this  was  the  reply  : 

First,  a  philosophic  object.  The  causes  underlying  the 
effects  of  art  are  in  themselves  as  interesting  as  any  un- 
derlying the  effects  of  nature — like  the  rising  and  falling 
of  the  tides,  the  coming  and  going  of  the  storms,  the 
sprouting  of  the  leaves  in  spring,  and  their  falling  in  the 
autumn.  And,  second,  a  practical  object.  If  a  man  be 
a  painter,  to  let  him  know  precisely  what  it  is  that  charms 
us  in  a  color  or  an  outline  may  enable  him  by  a  few 
touches  to  change  an  unsuccessful  product  into  one  fitted 
to  charm  all  those  whose  tastes  agree  with  our  own. 
And  so  with  a  poet.  Those  who  have  ever  attempted 
verses  know  the  constant  danger  of  having  the  forms — 
metre,  alliteration,  assonance,  rhyme — to  which  their 
thought  is  harnessed,  run  away  with  it  and  wreck  it.  Yet 
without  the  aid  of  these,  what  could  carry  the  thought  a 
single  step  in  an  artistic  direction  ?  The  poet  must  learn 
to  get  along,  not  without  them  but  with  them  ;  yet  in 
such  a  way  as  to  keep  them  in  subjection,  as  exemplified 
in  what  is  done  by  the  acknowledged  masters. 

And  there  is  another  practical  object  to  be  gained. 
This  is  to  enable  critics  and  through  them,  and  in  connec- 
tion with  them,  people  in  general  to  understand  and  hence 


PREFACE.  V 

to  appreciate  and  enjoy  that  in  art  which  is  excellent. 
At  present,  it  has  to  be  acknowledged  that  to  attain  this 
object  seems  wellnigh  beyond  hope.  Owing  to  a  lack  of 
breadth  and  balance  characterizing  the  practical  limitations 
of  American  culture,  a  man  here  who  tries  to  treat  art 
philosophically  finds  his  way  blocked  at  the  very  thresh- 
old of  his  undertaking  by  two  almost  insurmountable 
obstacles.  One  is  that  few  of  our  philosophers  have  had 
sufficient  aesthetic  training  to  be  interested  in  that  which 
concerns  art ;  and  the  other  is  that  few  of  our  artists — 
including  our  art-critics,  though  there  are  noteworthy 
exceptions — have  had  sufficient  philosophical  training  to 
be  interested  in  that  which  concerns  philosophy.  Ac- 
cordingly, as  a  rule,  the  philosopher  never  looks  at  the 
art-book  at  all ;  and  the  art-critic  on  whom  the  public 
relies  for  information  concerning  it,  does  so  merely  be- 
cause he  cannot  dodge  what  is  tossed  directly  at  him  as  a 
reviewer ;  but  the  little  that  he  sees  of  it  he  usually 
misapprehends  and  very  frequently  misrepresents. 

These  statements  are  not  uncharitable.  They  are  essen- 
tially the  opposite.  Otherwise,  if  articles  published  in 
some  of  our  foremost  journals — journals  that  would  be 
universally  placed  upon  every  list  of  the  first  half-score 
critical  authorities  in  our  country — could  not  be  attributed 
to  a  lack  of  intelligence,  one  would  be  obliged  to  attribute 
them  to  a  lack  of  integrity.  For  instance,  it  is  a  simple 
logical  process,  before  defining  the  exact  limitations  of  a 
subject,  to  show  its  relations  to  other  subjects  by  separa- 
ting it  from  its  surroundings  ;  in  other  words,  to  advance 
from  the  generic  to  the  specific ;  and  nothing,  to  a  well- 
trained  mind,  could  appear  more  unjust  than  to  represent 
the  beginning  of  this  process  as  if  it  were  the  end  of  it. 
Yet  a  criticism  upon  "Art  in  Theory,"  published  in  "  The 


VI  PREFACE. 

Independent  "  of  New  York,  opens  with  this  sentence : 
"  The  definition  of  art  that  it  is  '  nature  made  human ' 
may  do  in  a  way  for  the  literature  of  a  certain  broadly 
naturalistic  school,  but  will  hardly  answer  for  art  in  its 
wider  general  relations."  The  reader  would  certainly 
infer  from  this — and  nothing  further  is  quoted  as  a  text 
for  the  wholly  unwarranted  "  enlargement  "  that  follows 
— that  the  phrase  taken  from  the  book  was  the  final  re- 
sult of  an  endeavor  to  distinguish  carefully  the  character- 
istics of  (Esthetic  art ;  and  that  the  author  who  had  formu- 
lated the  definition  was  not  aware  that  it  was  too  broad 
for  the  purpose.  The  last  thing  that  any  one  would 
conceive  would  be  that  what  is  really  said  of  this  defini- 
tion on  page  6  of  "Art  in  Theory"  is  the  following: 
"Nature  made  human,  or  nature  remade  by  the  human  mind, 
is,  of  course,  a  very  broad  definition  of  art — one  that 
scarcely  begins  to  suggest  all  that  is  needed  for  a  full 
understanding  of  the  subject.  But  ...  it  will  serve  as 
a  starting-point  for  what  is  to  follow";  or  that  in  the 
very  next  sentence,  at  the  opening  of  the  next  chapter, 
is  begun  a  distinction  between  art  as  thus  defined  and 
aesthetic  art. 

Again,  in  the  same  book,  the  argument  for  the  theory 
of  beauty  that  is  presented  is  reinforced  by  showing  the 
substantial  agreement  with  reference  to  certain  under- 
lying requirements  of  beauty  between  all  the  prominent 
writers  on  aesthetics,  no  matter  how  greatly  they  may  differ 
in  other  regards.  The  concise  yet  comprehensive  state- 
ment and  classification  of  these  views,  for  such  a  purpose, 
would,  alone,  to  a  thinker,  justify  the  preparation  of  the 
entire  volume.  But  a  criticism  in  "  The  Nation  "  not  only 
fails  to  recognize  the  force  of  this  concurrence  of  opinion  ; 
but  even  why  it  should  be  supposed  to  have  any  force. 


PREFACE.  Vll 

"The  author's  reading,"  the  public  are  told,  "on  every- 
thing even  remotely  connected  with  the  subject,  has  been 
immense,  and  quotations  from  every  one  under  the  heav- 
ens are  as  plentiful  as  blackberries  in  his  pages  .  .  . 
they  over-load  them,"  etc.  Of  course,  a  comment  like 
this  could  not  be  phrased  in  such  language,  except  as  an 
expression  of  inability  to  apprehend  the  object  of  the 
quotations,  and  not  only  this,  but  even  the  elementary 
fact  that  it  is  desirable  for  an  author,  before  contributing 
to  a  subject,  to  take  pains  to  inform  himself  with  refer- 
ence to  what  others  have  already  contributed  to  it,  and, 
if  possible,  to  avail  himself  of  their  contributions  even  to 
the  extent  of  beginning  to  develop  his  system  where 
their  systems  have  ended. 

Once  more,  in  "  Art  in  Theory,"  an  endeavor  is  made  to 
find  a  simple  and  single  conception  of  beauty  fitted  to  meet 
the  requirements  of  those  who  attribute  it  to  essentially 
mental  results  like  association,  adaptability,  and  conform- 
ity to  ideals,  and  also,  at  the  same  time,  of  those  who 
attribute  it  to  essentially  physical  results  like  quality  or 
complement  in  tone  or  color.  The  general  conclusion 
reached,  which,  if  true,  is  of  the  utmost  philosophic  and 
artistic  importance,  is  summed  up  on  page  162  in  language 
which  certainly  ought  not  to  be  difficult  to  understand, 
to  wit :  "  The  highest  beauty,  in  all  its  different  phases, 
results,  as  is  the  case  in  other  departments  of  excellence, 
from  harmony  in  effects.  Analyzing  the  elements  of  these 
effects,  carries  with  it  the  additional  conclusion  that,  so 
far  as  beauty  is  physical,  it  results  when  sounds,  shapes, 
or  colors  harmonize  together  and  in  such  ways  that  their 
combinations  harmonize  with  the  natural  requirements 
of  the  physical  senses — the  ears  or  eyes  to  which  they 
appeal ;    that,   so    far  as  beauty  is    psychical,   it  results 


Viii  PREFACE. 

when  the  thoughts  and  feelings  suggested  or  expressed 
through  forms  harmonize  together,  and  also  with  the 
natural  requirements  of  the  minds  that  they  address  ; 
and  that,  so  far  as  it  is  both  physical  and  psychical,  it 
results  when  all  the  elements  entering  into  both  physical 
and  psychical  effects  harmonize  together,  and  also  with 
the  combined  requirements  of  both  natures  in  the  man 
subjected  to  their  influence.  In  this  latter  sense,  it  will 
be  observed  that  complete  beauty  necessitates  something 
more  than  that  which  is  either  formal  or  expressional. 
It  can  be  obtained  in  the  degree  only  in  which  a  form 
beautiful  in  itself  fits  a  beautiful  ideal  conjured  in  the 
mind  by  the  imagination  as  a  result  of  a  harmonious  com- 
bination of  thoughts  and  feelings/'  Immediately  following 
these  statements  in  the  book,  the  ideas  in  them  are  ab- 
breviated in  a  definition  expressed  in  terms  concise,  and, 
perhaps,  for  those  who  have  not  read  the  preceding  pages, 
unnecessarily  technical.  At  least,  this  impression  of  it 
seems  to  have  been  conveyed  to  no  less  than  four 
reviewers,  who,  ignoring  the  ample  explanations  of  the 
preceding  paragraph,  have  flung  the  briefer  statement 
toward  the  public  as  a  sort  of  specimen  boulder  to  show 
what  a  hard  road  would  have  to  be  travelled  by  one 
attempting  to  drive  his  thoughts  through  the  volume. 
Even  this  definition  alone,  however,  might  seem  clear  and 
acceptable  enough  if  quoted  accurately.  But  it  has 
been  quoted  inaccurately.  Here,  with  the  italicized 
phrases  omitted,  is  what  it  has  been  represented  to 
be :  "  Beauty  is  a  characteristic  of  any  complex  form 
of  varied  elements  producing  apprehensible  unity  (*.  e., 
harmony  or  likeness)  of  effects  upon  the  motive  organs  of 
sensation  in  the  ear  or  eye,  or  upon  the  emotive  sources  of 
imagination  in  the  mind ;  or  upon  both  the  one  and  the 
other!'     Moreover,  from  a  text,  thus  prepared  for  his  pur- 


PREFACE.  IX 

pose  by  himself,  through  the  omission  of  words  necessary 
in  order  to  render  its  meaning  clear  and  exact,  one  critic 
goes  on  to  argue  against  its  vagueness  and  "  inexact- 
ness." Besides  this,  too,  he  attempts  to  discredit  the  defi- 
nition, upon  the  hypothesis  that  by  a  complex  form's 
producing  "  apprehensible  unity  of  effects"  "in  the  ear 
and  eye,  or  upon  the  emotive  sources  of  imagination  in 
the  mind,"  is  meant  the  same  as  if  it  had  been  said 
that  beauty  is  owing  to  a  mere  intellectual  apprehen- 
sion of  the  fact  that  a  form  is  not  simple  but  complex 
in  its  structure. 

Such  criticisms  as  these  that  have  been  quoted  are, 
of  course,  not  worthy  of  attention  in  themselves.  Nor 
would  it  be  in  place  here  to  draw  the  natural  lesson 
which  they  suggest  with  reference  to  the  duty  of  a 
reviewer  to  study  a  book  sufficiently  to  let  the  public 
know  the  facts  about  it, — what  distinguishes  its  views 
from  those  of  other  books  upon  the  same  subject,  what  is 
the  purpose  of  the  quotations  made  in  it,  and  what  is 
the  exact  nature  of  its  conclusions.  But  there  are  other 
reasons  directly  connected  with  our  subject,  why  com- 
ments of  the  kind  noticed  need  mention.  One  reason  is 
that  the  attitude  of  mind  toward  the  philosophic  aspects 
of  art,  indeed  toward  all  truth  in  general,  which  they 
indicate,  suggests  a  lack  of  the  kind  of  intelligence  and 
insight  which  are  essential  in  order  to  appreciate  the  prac- 
tical results  of  art,  whether  in  the  past  or  present.  The 
other  reason  is,  that  these  particular  reviews  were  pub- 
lished in  periodicals  supposed  by  many  to  represent  high 
critical  authority  in  our  country.  For  both  reasons,  the 
question  forces  itself  upon  one — Where  is  art-thought, 
and  art,  and  all  that  art  is  worth,  likely  to  be  led  by  such 
an  attitude  of  mind  ? 

This  is  not  an  idle  question.     It  is  one  of  grave  import- 


X  PREFACE. 

ance.  In  what  sense  it  is  so,  may,  perhaps,  be  best 
revealed  to  the  reader  by  retracing  for  him  the  considera- 
tions which  first  revealed  its  import  to  the  author.  These 
were  gradually  brought  to  his  attention  while  examining 
a  series  of  criticisms  concurrently  made  in  different  jour- 
nals in  an  effort  to  discredit  a  fundamental  proposition  in 
"  Art  in  Theory,"  namely,  that,  in  all  successful  art,  the 
proper  balance  must  be  preserved  between  the  require- 
ments of  significance  in  the  form  and  the  requirements  of 
form  considered  only  in  itself.  The  proposition,  at  first 
thought,  seems  almost  too  apparent  to  need  even  to  be 
stated.  But  on  second  thought  no  one  can  fail  to  observe 
that,  if  accepted  as  true,  it  will  necessarily  put  an  end 
to  the  suppositions  of  those  who  consider  art  to  be 
merely  a  matter  of  technique.  And  it  is  undoubtedly 
this  threatened  danger  to  their  own  conceptions  that 
accounts  for  the  way  in  which  a  certain  class  of  critics 
have  seen  fit  to  deal  with  the  views  presented  in  "  Art  in 
Theory."  For  this  reason  it  will  be  interesting,  and  pos- 
sibly instructive,  to  notice  just  how  much  intelligence  and 
insight  have  armed  the  weapons  with  which  these  views 
have  been  attacked.  The  examination  of  the  criticisms 
will  be  in  place,  too,  in  this  preface,  because  it  will  ulti- 
mately lead  to  a  statement  of  the  exact  relations  to  the 
general  subject  of  art  of  those  technical  phases  of  it  which 
are  treated  in  the  present  volume.  The  relevancy  of  the 
first  criticism  to  be  quoted  lies  in  the  fact  that  it  is  a  com- 
ment on  a  brief  historical  review  in  "Art  in  Theory,"  in- 
tended to  show  that  the  acknowledged  errors  of  extreme 
romanticism  and  classicism  are  traceable,  respectively,  to 
the  undue  emphasizing,  in  the  one,  of  significance,  by 
which,  as  repeatedly  stated,  is  meant  an  "  expression 
of  thought  and   feeling"  ;  and  in  the  other,  of  form.     In 


PRE  FA  CE.  XI 

approaching  a  refutation  of  this  statement,  a  critic  in 
"The  Independent"  first  refers  to  the  "astounding  mis- 
apprehension "  of  this  view,  and  then  goes  on  to  say : 

"  We  cannot  at  all  admit  that  .  .  .  *  the  production 
of  something  that  imitates  a  previously  existing  form  or 
subject  is  now  one  of  the  recognized  meanings  of  the 
term  classic.''1  Why  can  he  not  admit  this?  Can  it  be 
that  he  is  unaware  that,  at  the  present  day,  which  is  what 
is  meant  by  the  word  now,  men,  when  they  speak  of  a 
modern  artist  as  producing  a  classic  face,  or  temple,  or 
drama,  or  allusion  in  a  drama,  invariably  suggest  a  like- 
ness in  it  either  to  a  Greek  face,  or  temple,  or  drama,  or 
allusion  containing  Greek  mythological  references  ?  or 
else,  if  not,  at  least  a  likeness  to  some  form  which,  as  a 
form,  is  sufficiently  old  to  have  a  recognized  character? 
And  does  he  not  know  that  the  reason  for  this  suggestion 
is  that  "  one  of  the  recognized  meanings  " — not  the  only 
meaning  mentioned  in  "  Art  in  Theory,"  but  one  men- 
tioned in  its  historic  connections — "  of  the  term  classic  is 
the  production  of  something  that  imitates  a  previously 
existing  form  or  subject  ?  "  One  would  think  that  every- 
body ought  to  know  this.  "  Les  classique."  says  a  French 
criticism  lying  before  me  now,  "  le  classique  c'est-a-dire 
ceux  qui  perpetuent  une  mantire"  But  this  reviewer  does 
not  know  it. 

However,  he  probably  fancies  himself  in  good  company 
— for  America.  An  earlier  critic  in  "  The  Nation,"  quoting 
from  "Art  in  Theory  "the  statement  that  "the  germ  of  clas- 
sicism is  the  conception  that  art  should  chiefly  emphasize 
the  form,"  and  of  romanticism  that  "  the  ideas  expressed 
in  the  form  should  be  chiefly  emphasized,"  had  exclaimed  : 
"  Sound  not  sense  was  certainly  never  a  motto  of  classical 
literature."    And  who  had  said  that  it  was  ?    Does  the  care- 


xii  PREFACE. 

fully  worded  phrase  "  chiefly  emphasize  "  mean  "  exclu- 
sively emphasize?  "  Or  does  the  term  "  sound  "  include 
all  that  is  meant  by  "  form  "  ?  When  we  speak  of  drama- 
tic "  form  "  do  we  often  even  suggest  the  idea  of  "  sound  "  ? 
What  we  mean  then  is  the  general  method  of  unfolding 
the  plot  as  a  whole.  This  attempted  refutation  reveals, 
once  more,  that  lack  of  philosophic  discrimination  to  which 
reference  has  been  made.  But  connected  with  it,  there  is  a 
still  greater  lack  of  historic  knowledge.  Who  has  never 
heard  of  the  famous  theatrical  contest  between  the  classi- 
cists and  romanticists  in  Paris,  which  once  almost  made  a 
Bedlam  of  the  whole  city,  because  Victor  Hugo,  the  idol 
of  romanticism,  did  not  model  his  dramas  upon  those  of 
his  predecessors,  which,  in  turn,  were  modelled  upon  those 
of  the  Greeks  ?  What  was  Hugo  contending  for  ?  For  the 
right  to  emphasize  chiefly  the  ideas  behind  the  form — to 
speak  out  naturally  upon  a  modern  subject,  with  a  style  to 
fit  it,  whether  it  assumed  a  conventional  form,  or  one  that 
nobody  before  had  ever  attempted.  But  no,  says  one  of 
these  critics  :  "  Classicism  and  Romanticism  are  tempers 
of  mind."  "  They  owe  their  origin,"  says  the  other,  "  to 
a  difference  in  mental  constitutions."  Of  course,  there  is 
a  truth  in  this.  By  nature  men  are  inclined  toward  the 
one  or  the  other.  But  one  might  say  the  same  of  almost 
any  different  phases  of  mental  action.  He  might  say  it 
of  the  tendencies  to  intemperance  or  gambling.  But 
would  his  saying  this  explain  what  either  of  these  is? 
Certainly  not ;  for  only  when  the  tendencies  come  to  the 
surface  and  reveal  themselves  in  a  form  of  action,  do 
they  exist  in  such  a  way  that  they  can  be  differentiated. 
The  same  is  true  of  classicism  and  romanticism.  They 
cannot  be  differentiated  till  developed  into  a  form  of  ex- 
pression.    The  questions  before  us  are,  what  is  this  form, 


PREFACE.  xiii 

and  what  is  there  in  it,  as  a  form,  that  makes  it  what  it  is? 
To  speak  of  differences  in  "  tempers  of  mind  "  or  of  "  men- 
tal constitution,"  is  to  mention  something  influential  in 
causing  a  difference  to  be.  But  it  is  no  more  influential 
than  is  the  spirit  of  the  age,  or  the  conditions  of  taste,  or 
environment,  or  education  ;  and  it  fails  to  suggest,  as  even 
some  of  these  latter  do,  why  it  is  that,  at  one  period,  all 
authors  and  artists  incline  to  classicism,  and  at  another  all 
of  them  incline  to  romanticism  ;  while,  at  some  periods,  the 
same  man  seems  almost  equally  inclined  to  both.  Goethe's 
"  Leiden  des  jungen  Werther's,"  for  instance,  and  his 
"  Goetz  von  Berlichingen  "  are  specimens  of  distinctively 
romantic  literature ;  whereas  his  "  Iphigenie  auf  Tauris  " 
is,  perhaps,  the  most  successful  modern  example  of  classic 
literature.  At  what  period  between  writing  the  first  two 
and  the  latter  of  these  was  his  "  temper  of  mind,"  his 
"  mental  constitution  "  changed  ?  Is  it  not  a  little  more 
rational  to  say  that  what  was  changed  was  his  artistic 
method  ? — possibly,  his  theory  of  this  ? — that  in  the  first 
two  he  "  chiefly  emphasized  "  the  "  significance,"  and  in 
the  last,  "  the  form,"  causing  it  to  be — what  he  did  not 
take  pains  to  cause  the  others  to  be — "  something  imita- 
ting a  previously  existing  "  Greek  "  form  "  not  only,  but 
in  this  case,  a  Greek  "  subject  "  also? 

On  the  contrary,  says  one  of  these  critics,  elaborating 
his  theory  about  "  tempers  of  mind,"  "  classicism  is  reason- 
able, logical,  and  constructive,  while  romanticism  is  emo- 
tional and  sensuous  "  ;  and  the  other  echoes  his  sentiments 
with  something  about  "  the  eternal  distinction  between 
the  intellectual  and  the  emotional."  And  so  one  is  to 
believe  that  the  distinguishing  feature  of  classic  Greek 
sculpture — like  a  "  Venus,"  a  "  Faun,"  or  a  "  Group  of  the 
Niobe," — or  of  a  classic  Greek  drama,  like  the  "  Antigone," 


XIV  PREFACE. 

is,  that  it  is  not  sensuous  or  emotional ;  and  that  the  distin- 
guishing feature  of  the  plays  of  Shakespeare  or  Hugo,  or  of 
a  Gothic  cathedral,  is  that  they  are  not  reasonable  or  log- 
ical or  constructive !  Of  course,  there  is  a  cause  underlying 
the  distinctions  that  these  critics  are  trying  to  make. 
It  is  suggested  too  in  "  Art  in  Theory."  On  page  25,  the 
statement  is  made  that  one  characteristic  of  romantic  art 
is  that  in  it  the  form  is  "  determined  solely  by  the  exigen- 
cies of  expression,"  and  on  page  17,  at  the  beginning  of 
the  chapter  in  which  this  statement  occurs,  as  well  as  in 
scores  of  other  places  in  the  book,  it  is  explained  that  by 
the  term  expression  is  meant  a  communication  of  thought 
and  feeling  combined.  Without  any  explanation  indeed, 
this  meaning  would  be  a  necessary  inference  from  the 
fundamental  conception  of  the  book,  which  is  that  all  art 
is  emotional  in  its  sources,  and  that  art-ideas  are  the 
manifestations  of  emotion  in  consciousness  (Chapters  V., 
XVIII.,  and  XIX.).  It  follows  from  all  these  facts  to- 
gether that  emotion — but  not  without  its  accompanying 
thought,  which,  sometimes,  as  with  Browning,  throws  the 
emotion  entirely  into  the  shade — has  a  more  unrestricted 
expression  in  romantic  art  than  in  classic  art.  In  the 
latter  the  form  is  "  chiefly  emphasized,"  and  therefore 
there  is  a  more  conscious,  as  well  as  apparent  exercise  of 
rational  intelligence  engaged  in  constructing  a  form  for  it, 
and  in  confining  the  expression  to  the  limits  of  this  form. 
But  we  must  not  confound  the  effects  of  this  difference 
with  that  which  causes  them.  This  is  the  method  of  the 
artist  when  producing  his  art-work,  a  method  influenced 
by  the  relative  attention  which  he  gives,  either  consciously 
or  unconsciously,  to  the  requirements  of  significance  or  of 
form.  It  is  important  to  recognize  this  fact,  too,  because, 
otherwise,  we  should  not  recognize  that  he  is  the  master  of 


PREFACE,  XV 

his  methods,  and,  if  he  choose,  can  produce  in  both  styles, 
though,  of  course,  not  with  equal  pleasure,  because  he 
must  have  his  preferences  ;  nor  with  equal  facility,  because 
it  is  a  matter  of  a  lifetime  to  produce  successfully  in  either. 
To  suppose  that  his  methods  master  him,  is  to  show  a  lack 
of  insight,  with  reference  to  the  practice  of  art,  still  greater 
than  that  just  indicated  with  reference  to  the  theory  of  it. 
Goethe  could  write  "  Iphigenie  auf  Tauris  "  or  the  "  Lei- 
den des  jungen  Werther's."  So,  too,  the  same  painter  can 
"  chiefly  emphasize  "  form  in  his  figures  by  using  the 
distinct  "  classic  "  line,  as  it  is  termed  ;  or,  if  he  have  been 
educated  in  another  school,  often  merely  if  he  choose,  he 
can  suggest  the  form  with  the  vague  outlines  of  the  roman- 
tic impressionist ;  and  the  same  architect  also  can  plan  a 
classic  Girard  college,  or  a  romantic  seaside  cottage.  To 
imagine  otherwise,  is  to  parallel  the  notion  of  a  schoolboy 
that  the  poet  tears  his  hair,  rolls  his  eyes,  raves  in  the  lines 
of  a  lyric  rather  than  of  a  drama,  and  makes  a  general  fool 
of  himself  by  a  complete  lack  of  self-control  whenever  he 
is  composing  at  all,  simply  because  he  is  "  born  and  not 
made." 

That  this  inference  with  reference  to  the  error  as  to 
artistic  methods  is  justified,  is  proved  by  the  inability  of 
critics  of  this  class  to  recognize  the  necessity  of  making 
any  distinction  whatever  between  significance  in  form — 
not  outside  of  form — and  form  as  developed  for  its  own 
sake,  concerning  which  the  reader  may  notice  what  is  said 
in  the  Introduction  to  "  Music  as  a  Representative  Art," 
on  page  235. 

It  might  be  supposed  that  the  definition  of  art  there 
quoted,  to  the  effect  that  it  is  "  the  application  to  any- 
thing, in  the  spirit  of  pleasure  and  for  play  only,  of  the 
principle  of  proportion,"  would  be  welcomed  as  a  desira- 


XVI  PREFACE. 

ble  reinforcement  of  the  truth  presented  in  two  hundred 
pages  of  an  essay  devoted  entirely  to  the  subject  of 
"  Rhythm  and  Harmony."  But,  as  shown  in  that  Intro- 
duction, there  are  reasons  connected  with  the  require- 
ments of  significance,  that  may  be  urged  against  this 
definition.  Let  us  notice  here  certain  other  reasons  of 
the  same  tenor  which  are  connected  with  the  require- 
ments of  form. 

Go  to  critics  of  literature  who  believe  that  art  is  "the 
application  to  anything  "  of  the  laws  of  art-form — which, 
for  reasons  given  on  page  235,  is  a  strictly  just  way  of 
shortening  what  is  meant  by  the  exceedingly  loose  use  of 
the  term  proportion  in  the  above  definition — and  ask  them 
who  is  the  first  English  poet  of  the  age.  They  will 
probably  answer — and  few  would  differ  from  them — 
Swinburne.  Now  ask  them  what  is  the  influence  upon 
life  of  the  thought  presented  in  his  poetry,  what  is  the 
particular  phase  of  inspiration  to  be  derived  from  it ;  and 
they  will  probably  answer  that  to  them  as  critics  this  is 
immaterial ;  that  not  the  thoughts  of  the  poet,  not  his 
subjects  give  him  his  rank,  but  his  manner  of  presenting 
them,  his  style,  the  rhythm  of  his  verse,  and  its  harmony 
as  produced  by  alliteration,  assonance,  or  rhyme.  Again, 
ask  a  critic  of  painting  of  the  same  school  to  show  you  the 
best  picture  in  a  gallery.  He  is  as  likely  as  not  to  point 
you  to  the  figure  of  a  woman,  too  lightly  clothed,  posing 
not  too  unconsciously  near  some  water ;  or,  too  heavily 
clothed,  sitting  in  front  of  a  mirror.  You  ask  him  what 
is  the  peculiar  phase  of  thought  expressed  in  this  picture, 
the  particular  inspiration  for  life  to  be  derived  from  it ; 
and  he  will  look  at  you  and  laugh.  Nothing  to-day,  in 
our  country,  is  supposed  to  show  more  ignorance  about 
art,  than  the  conception  that  interest  in  a  picture  has  any- 


PREFACE.  xvii 

thing  to  do  with  a  subject,  or  with  its  suggesting  a  story, 
whether  inspiring  or  otherwise.  We  must  judge  of  the 
picture,  we  are  told,  entirely  by  the  form,  the  style,  the 
use  in  it  of  light  and  shade  and  color. 

But,  you  say,  there  certainly  was  a  time  when  theories 
of  art  were  different.  Dante,  Milton,  Wordsworth,  yes, 
and  Shakespeare,  Goethe,  and  Schiller  too, — all  these  had 
style  or  form,  yet  what  one  thinks  of  chiefly,  when  he 
reads  them,  is  not  this,  but  the  thought  that  is  behind  it. 
Then  there  is  Raphael.  On  a  Sunday,  one  could  sit  for 
an  hour  before  the  Sistine  Madonna,  and  feel  more  bene- 
fited than  in  most  of  the  churches.  But  Raphael's  is  not 
a  name,  you  find,  with  which  to  charm  the  modern  critic. 
You  are  told  that  you  are  behind  the  age.  This  state- 
ment gives  you  a  new  suggestion,  and  you  proceed  to 
apply  it.  You  ask  yourself  if  the  same  may  be  true  with 
reference  to  your  views  of  literary  art.  You  take  up  the 
nearest  periodical  and  read  the  poetry  in  it,  and  its  criti- 
cisms upon  poetry.  What  are  the  new  poets  doing? 
What  is  it  in  their  work  that  excites  praise  ?  The 
thought  ? — its  breadth  of  conception  ?  its  completeness  of 
development  ?  its  power  of  expressing  truth  fitted  to 
uplift  spiritually?  How  often  do  we  see,  in  an  American 
criticism,  anything  like  an  analysis  of  a  new  American 
poem  ?  How  often  do  we  see  an  effort  to  bring  to  light  the 
subtle  character  of  the  philosophy  of  which  it  is  the  ex- 
pression ?  And  there  is  the  kindliest  of  reasons  why  these 
are  not  seen.  A  suggestion  of  logical  arrangement,  as 
in  Dante  or  Milton,  a  hint  of  ethical  maxims,  though 
set  as  brilliantly  as  in  Shakespeare  or  Schiller,  would 
give  a  poet  of  our  own  day,  were  he  commended  for 
these  particularly,  a  hard  tramp  up  the  road  to  recog- 
nition.    What  our  people  want  is  style,  form.     "  Yes," 


xviii  PREFACE. 

say  the  critics,  "  but  imaginative  form.  You  can't  object 
to  that."  Certainly  one  can — to  imagination  used  for 
mere  form's  sake.  Imaginative  form  has  value  only  when  it 
images  a  truth  ;  and  this  is  that  which  our  modern  critics 
have  forgotten.  Any  comparison,  however  odious,  will 
do  for  them,  if  it  be  only  a  comparison,  and  almost  any 
style  if  it  only  ring,  even  if  as  hollow  as  some  of  the 
French  forms  of  verse  that  our  magazines  admire  so 
much.  Not,  of  course,  that  the  style  must  always  be  as 
dainty  as  in  these.  Some  of  us  prefer  to  take  it — as  the 
English  do  their  cheese — strong,  with  plenty  of  light  and 
shade,  and  if  the  former  be  leprous  and  the  latter  smutty, 
so  long  as  the  effects  are  anything  but  weak,  our  critics, 
especially  of  our  religious  journals,  are  apt  to  like  it  all 
the  better.  The  truth  is  that  the  moment  that,  through 
an  overbalancing  regard  for  form,  people  come  to  think 
that  it  alone  has  value,  and  that  the  subject  in  art  is  im- 
material, they  are  in  a  fair  way  to  become  realists  in  that 
very  worst  sense  in  which  it  means  believers  in  the  por- 
trayal in  art  of  any  amount  of  ugliness  or  nastiness  so 
long  as  it  be  only  that  which  they  term  "  true  to  nature." 
This  is  the  belief  which,  at  present,  is  uppermost  in 
France,  brought  about  in  that  country  by  the  predomi- 
nating influence,  through  more  than  one  century,  of  a 
materialistic  art-philosophy.  It  is  the  reason  why,  in  def- 
erence to  the  supposed  interests  of  art,  the  thousands 
there  who  dislike  the  practical  results  no  less  than  we,  do 
not  protest  against  unsavory  plays  or  novels,  like  some  of 
those  of  Sardou  or  Zola,  and  can  actually  swallow  their 
dinners  without  turning  to  the  wall  some  of  the  pictures 
that  confront  them.  It  is  the  reason  too — and  this  is 
usually  overlooked — why  people  foreign  to  France,  while 
willing  to  acknowledge  that  its  artists  in  every  department 


PREFACE.  XIX 

outnumber  many  times  those  of  any  other  nation,  have 
never  generally  admitted  a  single  French  poet,  musician, 
painter,  or  sculptor,  into  that  highest  rank  where,  estimat- 
ing worth  according  to  a  standard  of  significance  as  well 
as  of  style,  they  have  all  agreed  to  place  Shakespeare, 
Goethe,  Beethoven,  Rubens,  Raphael,  and  Angelo. 
And  this  French  attitude  of  mind  toward  art, — art  which 
some  believe  to  be  the  handmaid  of  civilization  and  reli- 
gion, and  the  most  powerfully  elevating  of  any  purely 
human  influence ; — this  attitude  of  mind  and  this  direction 
toward  high  achievement  in  art,  is  that  to  which  almost  all 
those  potent  in  criticism  in  our  country,  to-day,  are  doing 
their  utmost  to  point  our  own  people. 

In  this  preface,  however,  that  which  concerns  us  chiefly, 
is  the  influence  of  theories  of  this  kind  upon  artistic  form. 
Do  those  who  hold  that  the  subject  of  art  can  be  "  any- 
thing," continue  to  hold  on  to  their  belief  in  the  necessity 
of  a  strictly  artistic  treatment  of  this  ? — or  do  their  fol- 
lowers ?  It  may  be  a  new  suggestion,  but  the  plain  truth 
is  that  usually  they  do  not,  and  this  because  they  cannot. 
If  it  be  a  law,  as  is  maintained  in  "  Art  in  Theory,"  that 
an  artist,  to  be  successful  in  his  work,  must  always  keep 
his  thought  upon  two  things, — form  in  itself,  and  signifi- 
cance in  the  form, — then  he  cannot  think  of  only  one  of 
these  without  doing  injury  to  both.  He  is  like  a  man  in 
a  circus,  riding  two  horses.  The  moment  that  he  neglects 
one  of  them,  it  shies  off  from  him ;  and,  when  he  leans 
to  recover  his  control  of  this,  he  finds  himself  balanced 
away  from  the  other.  Very  soon,  unless  he  wish  to 
keep  up  a  jumping  exhibition,  for  which  his  audience  have 
not  paid,  he  will  either  ride  no  horse  at  all,  or  only  one, 
and  this  is  as  likely  as  otherwise  to  be  the  very  one  that 
he  at  first  neglected.    So  in  art :  unless  a  man  preserve  the 


XX  PREFACE. 

equilibrium  between  the  requirements  of  form  and  of 
significance,  no  one  can  tell  which  of  the  two  will  finally 
appeal  to  him  more  strongly.  Significance  of  some  sort, 
for  instance,  to  apply  this  to  the  case  before  us,  is  eternally 
present  in  art,  no  matter  what  one's  theory  may  be  con- 
cerning it.  For  this  reason,  when  men  have  begun  to 
think  that  the  subject  of  art  may  be  "  anything,"  so  long 
as  the  form  is  artistic,  some  of  them,  as  just  noticed,  will 
soon  begin  to  think  that  it  may  be  "  anything  but  what  it 
should  be."  Before  long,  too,  they  will  come  to  suppose 
— just  as  people  come  to  admire  most  the  disagreeable 
eccentricities  of  those  whom  they  accept  as  leaders — that 
the  art  is  all  the  better  for  having  as  a  subject  "  anything 
but  what  it  should  be."  Does  this  result  appear  improba- 
ble ?  Recall  the  almost  universal  comment  of  the  art- 
editors  in  our  country  upon  the  rejection  of  the  nude  male 
figure  prepared  for  the  medal  of  the  Columbian  exhibition. 
The  comment — probably  true  enough  in  itself — was  that 
the  authorities  at  Washington  did  not  "  understand  "  or 
"appreciate  art."  But  think  of  any  one's  imagining  that 
this  fact  was  proved  by  this  particular  action  ? — as  if  the 
statues  of  our  statesmen  in  the  old  Hall  of  Representatives 
in  the  Capitol  could  not  be  specimens  of  art  unless  all  their 
pantaloons  were  chiselled  off! — as  if  appropriateness  of 
subject  and  of  treatment  had  nothing  to  do  with  art  in 
them  or  in  this  medal ! — as  if  by  reproducing,  however 
successfully,  a  form  representative  of  Greek  life,  we  could 
atone,  in  a  distinctively  American  medal,  for  misrepre- 
senting American  life  ! — as  if,  in  short,  there  were  not  a 
large  number  of  other  considerations  far  more  important 
as  proving  the  possession  of  aesthetic  appreciation  than 
the  acceptance  of  a  subject  which,  when  exhibited  in  an 
advertisement,  would  inevitably  be  deemed  by  hundreds 


PREFACE.  XXI 

of  thousands  of  our  countrymen  "  anything  but  what  it 
should  be  !  "  How  long  would  it  take  a  condition  of  art- 
appreciation,  of  which  such  a  criterion  were  the  test,  to 
fill  our  public  parks  with  imitated  Venuses  and  Apollos, 
meaningless  to  our  people  except  as  reminders  of  the 
reigning  beauties  of  else  forgotten  "  living  pictures  "  ? 
What  would  be  the  effect  upon  our  growing  youth,  were 
the  thoughts  excited  by  such  productions  to  be  substi- 
tuted for  the  nobler  and  purer  inspiration  of  works  like 
St.  Gaudens'  "  Farragut,"  or  McMonnies'  recently  erected 
"  Nathan  Hale"? 

The  influence  upon  sculpture  of  this  supposition  that  a 
subject  of  art  may  be  "  anything,"  has  not  yet,  fortunately, 
in  our  country,  been  fully  revealed.  But  the  same  can- 
not be  said  with  reference  to  poetry.  There  are  plenty 
of  people  among  us,  neither  vicious  nor  morbid  in  their 
tastes,  who,  nevertheless,  are  inclined  to  fancy  that,  con- 
sidered aesthetically,  a  shady  theme  is  not  only  excusa- 
ble but  desirable,  when  furnishing  a  background  from 
which  to  project  into  relief  a  brilliancy  of  treatment. 
Therefore,  for  his  brilliancy,  they  accepted  Swinburne 
when  he  first  appeared ;  and  to-day, though  far  less  brilliant, 
they  have  taken  up  with  Ibsen.  How  would  it  be,  ac- 
customed as  they  are  now  to  these  morbid  themes,  were 
another  Ibsen  to  appear,  an  Ibsen  so  far  as  concerned  his 
subjects,  but  without  the  present  Ibsen's  dramatizing 
skill?  Would  he,  too,  though  destitute  of  the  elements 
of  form  which  once  their  school  considered  the  essential 
test  of  art, — would  he,  too,  be  accepted  as  a  foremost  poet 
or  dramatist  ?  Strange  as  it  may  seem,  he  certainly  would. 
Most  of  the  service  of  praise  to  Whitman  in  the  Madison 
Square  Theatre  in  New  York,  some  ten  years  ago,  was 
piped  by  our  little  metropolitan  singers,  whose  highest 


XX11  PREFACE. 

ideal  of  a  poet  had  been  Swinburne,  and  whose  most 
vehement  artistic  energy  had  hitherto  expended  itself 
almost  entirely  upon  dainty  turns  of  melody  in  rondeaus 
and  villanelles.  The  result  merely  verified  an  old  well- 
known  principle.  Extremes  meet.  The  apotheosis  of 
form,  when  the  smoke  of  the  incense  clears  away,  reveals, 
enthroned  on  high,  a  Whitman  ;  and  not  in  any  of  Whit- 
man's works  is  there  even  a  suggestion  of  that  kind  of 
excellence  in  form,  which  once  his  worshippers  supposed 
to  be  the  only  standard  of  poetic  merit. 

Precisely  the  same  principle  is  exemplified  in  painting, 
too.  When  an  artist  starts  out  with  an  idea  that  the  sub- 
ject of  art  may  be  "  anything,"  of  course  he  begins  to 
develop  the  form  for  its  own  sake.  He  has  nothing  else 
to  do.  But  form  may  mean  many  different  things.  With 
some,  it  means  the  imitation  of  natural  outlines  or  colors. 
With  some,  it  hardly  means  imitation  at  all.  It  means 
the  development  of  color  according  to  the  laws  of  har- 
mony. Even  where  the  subject  of  art  is  a  person,  even 
in  portraiture,  there  are  critics  who  tell  us  that  the  result 
should  not  be  judged  by  its  likeness  to  the  person  depicted. 
It  is  not  a  photograph,  forsooth.  It  is  a  painting,  to  be 
judged  by  the  paint,  they  say,  and  mean,  apparently,  by 
the  color,  irrespective  of  its  appearance  in  the  face  por- 
trayed. Of  course,  this  supposition  will  be  deemed  by 
some  unwarranted.  Few  would  second  it,  made  thus 
baldly.  But  we  must  judge  of  beliefs  by  practices ;  and 
scarcely  an  art-exhibition  in  New  York  fails  to  show  some 
portraits  on  the  walls — nor  the  ones  least  praised — in 
which  those  slight  variations  of  hue  which  every  careful 
observer  recognizes  to  be  essential  to  the  effects  of  life  in 
the  human  countenance,  are  so  exaggerated  for  the  sake 
of  mere  effects  of  color,  that   faces  in  robust  health  are 


PREFACE.  xxiii 

made  to  look  exactly  as  if  breaking  out  with  the  measles ; 
or,  not  infrequently,  as  if  the  victim  had  had  the  disease, 
and  died  of  it.  Thus  in  painting  as  in  poetry,  and  the  same 
fact  might  be  exemplified  in  all  the  arts,  exclusive  atten- 
tion to  form, — the  conception  that  art  is  the  application 
of  its  laws  to  "  anything  " — may  lead  in  the  end,  and  very 
swiftly  too,  to  the  destruction  not  only  of  all  in  art  that 
is  inspiring  to  the  soul,  but  even  of  that  which  is  pleasing 
to  the  senses.  A  law  of  art-form  is  worth  nothing  except 
as  it  is  applied  to  forms  that  have  worth  ;  and  that  which 
gives  them  worth  is  not  by  any  means  synonymous  with 
that  which  makes  them  "  anything." 

Contrast  the  conception  that  it  is,  with  that  underlying 
proposition  of  Lessing  in  his  great  criticism  upon  the 
Laocoon,  namely  that  "  the  Greek  artist  represented  noth- 
ing that  was  not  beautiful.  .  .  .  The  perfection  of  the 
subject  must  charm  in  his  work."  In  this  contrast  is 
represented  a  difference  between  the  American  and  the 
Greek  ideal  of  art  which  may  well  cause  serious  reflection. 
And  when  we  recall  not  only  the  literary  works  of  Goethe 
and  Schiller,  but  the  marvellous  advances  in  all  the  arts 
that  are  universally  traced  to  the  acceptance  in  Germany 
of  the  principles  developed  by  Lessing,  we  can  surmise 
just  how  much  the  acceptance  of  like  principles  might 
do  for  our  own  country,  as  well  as  how  far  we  yet  are 
from  a  position  in  which  we  may  even  begin  to  entertain 
a  hope  that  they  may  ultimately  obtain  supremacy. 

The  author  is  under  obligations  to  Messrs.  Houghton, 
Mifflin  &  Co.,  Charles  Scribner's  Sons,  the  Macmillan 
Company,  and  to  others,  publishers  and  authors,  for  their 
kind  permission  to  insert  in  this  work  poems  of  which 
they  hold  the  copyrights. 

Princeton,  N.  J.,  September,  1894. 


RHYTHM  AND  HARMONY  IN  POETRY  AND  MUSIC. 
CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

Correspondences  between   Elements  of  Form  in 

the  Arts  of  Sound  and  of  Sight        .        .       1-7 

Introduction — Object  of  the  Present  Volume — The  Arts  as  Sepa- 
rated by  the  Differences  between  Sound  and  Sight — Forms  as 
Separated  by  Silences  or  Pauses  among  Sounds,  and  by  Lines  or 
Outlines  among  Sights— Chart  of  the  Methods  of  Art-Composition 
— Separate  Effects  of  Sound  Differ  in  Duration,  Force,  Quality, 
and  Pitch  ;  and  of  Sights  in  Extension,  in  Light  and  Shade,  and  in 
Quality  and  Pitch  of  Color — Respective  Correspondences  between 
Effects  in  Sound  and  in  Sight — Combined  Influences  of  these 
Effects  as  Manifested  in  Rhythm  and  in  Proportion,  and  also  in 
Harmony  of  Sound  and  of  Color. 

II. 

Rhythm  in  Nature,  Mind,  and  Speech  :  How  De- 
veloped by  Methods  of  Art-Composition       .     8-24 

Rhythm  as  a  Form  of  Human  Expression — As  Manifested  in  Exter- 
nal Nature — In  the  Action  of  the  Nervous  System,  and  in  that  of 
the  Mind — Results  of  Experiments  Proving  Mental  Rhythmical 
Action  ;  Groups  Formed  from  Series  of  Uniform  Sounds — Of 
Sounds  Regularly  Differing  in  Accent  or  in  Duration — Inferences 
from  these  Experiments — Speech  as  Necessitating  Accent  and 
Groups  of  Syllables — Larger  Groups  also — Inhalation  as  Necessi- 
tating Pauses,  and  Causing  Composite  Groups — Adaptation  of 
these  Conditions  to  Secure  Rhythmic  Effects  of  Unity  and  Variety, 
through  Order — Complexity,  Confusion,  Counteraction,  Compari- 
son, Contrast,  and  Complement — Principality  and  Subordination — 


XXVI  CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

Congruity,  Incongruity,  and  Comprehensiveness — The  Number  of 
Syllables  not  the  Basis  of  the  Measure-Units — Nor  Quantity — But 
Accent — Influence  of  Central-Point,  Setting,  Parallelism,  Organic 
Form,  Symmetry — Measures  Constructed  According  to  Accent — 
Others — Primitive  Method  of  Verse-Rhythm — Greek  and  Latin 
Verse-Rhythm — English  and  its  Advantages. 

III. 

Art-Methods  as  Developing  Measure  and  Verse    25-37 

The  Art-Methods,  especially  Repetition,  as  Causing  Groups  of 
Syllables  in  Measures — Double  and  Triple  Measures — Initial,  Ter- 
minal, Median,  Compound,  and  Double  Initial  and  Terminal — 
Significance  of  Each  Measure — Art-Methods  as  Causing  Groups  of 
Measures  in  Lines — Hebrew  Parallelism,  and  Greek — The  Couplet 
— The  Caesura — Lines  of  One,  Two,  Three,  Four,  Five,  Six,  and 
More  Measures — Examples  of  them — The  Iambic  Tetrameter — 
The  Iambic  Pentameter,  Heroic  Measure,  Blank  Verse — The 
Classic  Hexameter — English  Hexameter — Children  of  the  Lord's 
Supper — Another  Example — A  Translation  from  the  Iliad — The 
Alexandrine. 

IV. 

Art-Methods  as  Developing  Variety  in  Measure 

and  Line 38-52 

Natural  Conditions  Necessitating  Variety — Two  Ways  of  Intro- 
ducing this  into  Measures — By  Changing  the  Number  of  Syllables 
in  the  Measures  and  Lines — Examples — By  Omitting  Syllables 
Necessary  to  a  Complete  Foot — Necessity  of  Reading  Poetry  in 
a  Way  Analogous  to  Rendering  Words  in  Music — Unused  Possi- 
bility in  English  Blank  Verse — Suggestions  of  it — An  Example  of 
it  and  a  Criticism — Omitting  Syllables  at  the  Ends  of  Lines — Add- 
ing them  in  Rhymed  Lines — In  Blank  Verse — Feminine  and  Double 
Endings  of  Lines — Examples  of  Regularly  Metrical  Lines  with 
Syllables  Omitted  and  Added — Changing  the  Numbers  or  the 
Places  of  Accents  in  the  Lines — In  Rhyming  Verses — In  Blank 
Verse — Example  of  Greater  Regularity — Accent  and  its  Absence 
in  the  Final  Foot :  End-stopped  Lines — Run-on  Lines  :  Weak  and 


CONTENTS.  XXVli 


PAGE 

Light  Endings — Forme  of  Broken  Blank  Verse — Shakespeare's  Use 
of  Run-on  Lines. 


Art-Methods   as  Developing  Stanzas  and  Typi- 
cal Verse-Forms 53-89 

Rhythm  as  so  far  Explained — Necessity  in  Each  Poem  of  a  Stand- 
ard Measure  or  Line — Illustrating  the  Art-Methods  of  Principality, 
Massing,  Interspersion,  Complication — Examples — Tendency  to 
Make  Long  Lines  just  Double  the  Length  of  Short  lines — The 
Couplet,  through  Complication  and  Continuity,  Passes  into  the 
Stanza — Rhythm  as  Related  to  the  Tunes  of  Verse,  and  Causing 
Correspondences  between  Lines  of  Verse  and  Lines  of  Vision — 
Rhythm  as  Involving  Consonance,  Dissonance,  Interchange,  and 
Gradation — Abruptness,  Transition,  and  Progress — Slow  and  Fast 
Progress  as  Represented  in  Poetic  Rhythm — Rhythmic  Possibilities 
of  Stanzas  of  Different  Forms — Stanzas  of  Three  Lines — Four — 
Five — Six — Seven — Shorter  Chaucerian — Eight — Nine,  the  Spen- 
serian— Longer  Chaucerian — The  Sonnet — First  Type  of — Second 
— Third — French  Forms  of  Verse — Triolet — Rondel — Rondeau — 
Kyrielle — Rondeau  Redouble — Ballade — Pantoum — Villanelle — 
Chain  Verse — Sestina — Sicilian  Octave — Virelai — Chant  Royal — 
Ode — Comic  Effects — Incongruity  between  Thought  and  Form — In 
the  Form  only — In  Endings  of  Lines — In  Rhymes — In  Pauses. 

VI. 

Art-Methods  as  Developing  Rhythm  in  Music     .  90-106 

Rhythm  an  End  aside  from  its  Connection  with  Words — Music 
as  Developed  from  Song — Point  of  Separation  between  Speech 
and  Song :  Poetry  and  Music — Musical  Measures  more  Compli- 
cated than  Poetic — Ways  of  Indicating  Musical  Notes  and  Rests — 
Measures — Longer  Divisions  Corresponding  to  Poetic  Lines — De- 
veloped as  in  Poetry  from  the  Art-Methods,  Parallelism,  etc. — The 
Motive — Its  Expressional  Importance — The  Phrase,  Section,  and 
Period — Changes  in  the  Period — Unity  of  Effect  as  Developed  from 
these  Rhythmic  Arrangements — Why  Higher  Works  Find  Few  to 
Appreciate  them — Musical  Measures,  Like  Poetic,  Double  and 
Triple — Accent  in  Musical  Measures — Why  Poetic  Measures  Need 


xxviii  CONTENTS. 


to  be  Distinguished  in  Other  Ways  than  as  Double  and  Triple — 
Three  or  Six  Notes  as  Used  in  the  Time  usually  Allotted  to  Two 
or  Four — Changes  of  the  Places  of  Accent  in  the  Measures — Possi- 
bility of  Representing  Different  Effects  of  Movement — Typical 
Forms  of  Rhythm — General  Effect  of  Musical  Rhythm  Depends 
on  that  of  Whole  Phrases,  Sections,  and  Periods — Effects  of 
Rhythm  very  Different  from  those  of  Harmony — But  the  Develop- 
ment of  the  One  has  Accompanied  that  of  the  Other. 

VII. 

Art-Methods  of  Unity,  Order,  Comparison,  Prin- 
cipality, etc.,  as  Developing  Poetic  Har- 
mony           107-120 

The  Terms  Tone  and  Color  are  Used  in  both  the  Arts  of  Sound  and 
of  Sight — Harmony  a  Complex  Effect  but  a  Unity — The  Mind  Con- 
scious of  the  Divisions  of  Time  Represented  in  Rhythm  ;  Not 
Conscious  of  those  of  Vibrations  Represented  in  Harmony — In  the 
Recognition  of  which,  the  Ear  and  Eye  Act  Similarly — The  Scien- 
tific Knowledge  of  the  Origin  of  Tone  and  Color  did  not  Precede 
the  Artistic  Use  of  them — Analogies  between  Poetry  and  Paint- 
ing or  Sculpture — Also  between  Architecture  and  Music — Poetic 
Effects  Dependent  on  Laws  of  Sound — Examples  of  Verse  Con- 
taining too  Much  Variety  of  Tone — Necessity  for  Unity  of  Tone- 
Effects — Dependent  upon  the  Order  of  the  Syllables — Euphony 
— Vowel-  and  Consonant-Sounds  Easy  to  Pronounce — Examples 
of  Euphonious  Words  and  Poems — If  Difficult  to  Pronounce,  Illus- 
trate Artistic  Confusion — Euphony  Leading  to  Use  of  Like  Sounds 
According  to  Art-Method  of  Comparison — Accent  as  Necessitating 
Art-Methods  of  Counteraction,  Contrast,  Complement — Further 
Exemplification — Consecutive  Tones  should  not  be  as  Different 
as  Possible — But  should  not  be  Alike  on  both  Accented  and  Un- 
accented Syllables — Accented  Tones  can  be  Repeated  According 
to  Art-Methods  of  Principality,  but,  in  such  cases,  Subordination 
and  Balance  Require  Accented  Tones  to  Differ  from  Unaccented. 

VIII. 

Alliteration,  Assonance,  and  Rhyme      .         .         1 21-135 

Like  Effects  in  the  Sounds  of  Syllables — Alliteration — In  Hebrew 
Poetry — In  Greek,  Latin,  French,  Italian,  Spanish,  German — In 


CONTENTS.  XXIX 

PAGE 

Anglo-Saxon — As  Used  by  Milton,  Shakespeare,  and  Modern  Eng- 
lish Poets — Assonance — Examples,  Greek,  Latin,  French,  Italian, 
Spanish,  German,  Anglo-Saxon,  English — Two  Examples  from 
Tennyson — Assonance  Used  for  Rhyme — Rhyme,  Place  of — Its 
History — Greek,  Latin,  Early  English — Reason  for  it — Rules  of, 
First,  Second,  Third,  Fourth,  Fifth— A  Correlated  Chinese  Style 
of  Composition. 

IX. 

Comparison  by  Way  of  Congruity,  Central-Point, 
Parallelism,  etc.,  as  Determining  the  Use 
of  Like  Poetic  Sounds    ....         136-146 

Inartistic  Effects  of  an  Excessive  Use  of  Alliteration,  Assonance, 
and  Rhyme — Objections  urged  against  Rhyme — These  Forms 
should  not  be  Discarded,  but  Used  in  Accordance  with  the  Art- 
Methods  :  Unity,  Variety,  Comparison,  Contrast — Congruity  in 
Thought  as  Represented  in  Sound-Effects — Applied  to  Alliteration 
and  Assonance — Influence  of  these  upon  Association  and  Memory 
— Illustration — Influence  of  Incongruity — Of  the  Art-Method  of 
Comprehensiveness — Methods  of  Principality,  Central-Point,  Sub- 
ordination, Setting,  as  Exemplified  in  Sound-Arrangements — Cor- 
respondence in  this  Regard  between  Effects  of  Poetic  and  Musical 
Harmony — Similar  Actions  of  the  Mind  in  both  Arts — Parallelism 
as  Emphasized  by  Rhyme. 


Repetition,  Alternation,  Consonance,  Inter- 
change, etc.,  as  Determining  the  Use  of 
Like  Poetic  Sounds         ....         147-161 

Repetition  and  Alternation  as  Influencing  the  Use  of  Alliteration, 
Assonance,  and  Rhyme — Of  Alternation  as  Developed  from  Paral- 
lelism and  Balance — Balancing  Series  of  Sounds — In  Whole  Words 
that  are  Alike — How  these  Exemplify  Alternation — Balancing 
Series  of  Sounds  Alike  by  Alliteration  or  Assonance — From  the 
Greek,  Latin,  Spanish,  French,  German,  English — Excess  in  this 
to  be  Avoided — Massing  as  a  Corrective  of  Excessive  Balance  or 


XXX  CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

Alternation — And  Interspersion  ls  Corrective  of  Excessive  Massing 
— Also  Complication  and  Continuity — Poetic  Examples  of  these 
Methods — Consonance  as  Applied  to  Sounds  ;  Phonetic-Syzygy — 
Examples  of  the  Use  of  Allied  Consonant-Sounds — Of  Allied 
Vowel-Sounds — Dissonance  and  Interchange  in  Music — In  Poetic 
Sounds — Illustrations. 

XL 

Gradation,  Abruptness,  Continuity,  and  Progress 
as  Determining  the  Use  of  Like  Poetic 
Sounds 162-167 

Importance,  in  All  the  Arts  as  an  Element  of  Harmony,  of  Grada- 
tion— Logical  Connection  between  it  and  the  Use  of  Allied  Sounds : 
All  Possible  Syllable-Sounds  can  be  Graded  and  Arranged  in  a 
Series — So  can  Words,  though  Containing  both  Consonants  and 
Vowels — Degrees  of  Phonetic  Gradation  Determined  by  the  Manner 
of  Utterance  and  Kinds  of  their  Gradation  by  the  Direction  of  the 
Changes  in  Utterance  :  Analogies  between  Gradation  in  Words  and 
in  the  Musical  Scale — Illustrations  of  Gradation  in  Verse — Espe- 
cially in  the  Accented  Syllables — Analogy  between  One  Effect  of 
it  and  the  Discord  of  the  Seventh  in  Music — Variety  in  Verse  Har- 
mony as  Produced  by  the  Combination  of  all  the  Methods  here 
Considered — Abruptness  in  Verse  Harmony — Transition  and  Pro- 
gress— Examples. 

XII. 

Analogies  between  the  Use  of  Quality  and  Pitch 

in  Poetry  and  Music       ....         168-177 

Each  of  these  Arts  Developed  Independently,  yet  Sounds  as  Used 
in  Both  are  Connected — Every  Vowel  Has  a  Quality  of  its  Own — 
Also  a  Pitch — Not  Essential  for  our  Purpose  to  Know  what  this 
Pitch  is — Only  the  Fact — In  Passing  from  One  Word  to  Another 
we  Pass  to  a  Different  Pitch,  and  in  Using  Different  Vowel-  and 
Consonant-Sounds  together  in  One  Word  we  Produce  Effects  Allied 
to  Chords — These  Effects  Augmented  by  Upward  and  Downward 
Inflections  Used  in  Reading,  Causing  Analogies  to  Musical  Melody 
and  Harmony — Different  Kinds  of  Verse-Melody  Froduced  by 
Different  Arrangements  of  Sounds  and  Accents — Tunes  of  Verse  as 
Determined  by  the  Rhythm — Illustrations — Melody  and  Harmony, 


CONTENTS.  xxxi 

PAGE 

though  Existing  in  both  Poetry  and  Music,  are  Different  in  Each 
Art — Every  Possible  Pitch  of  the  Voice  can  be  Used  in  Poetry ; 
Only  Notes  of  Some  Selected  Pitch  in  Music — The  Cause  of  this 
Difference  to  be  Found  in  the  Difference  between  the  Expressional 
Possibilities  of  Articulated  and  Inarticulated  Sounds — Early  Musi- 
cians did  not  Know  All  their  Reasons  for  Constructing  Musical 
Scales — But,  Judging  by  Effects,  were  Led,  as  is  now  Known,  in 
All  Cases  to  Put  together  Like  Partial  Effects  of  Unlike  Complex 
Wholes. 

XIII. 
Musical  Melody  and  Harmony,  as  Developed  His- 
torically According  to   the  Methods   of 
Art-Composition 178-191 

The  Best  Results  of  Quality,  as  Exemplified  in  the  Human  Voice 
and  Instruments,  Produced  by  a  Blending  of  Like  Effects — In 
Pitch,  the  Same  is  True — But  to  Understand  the  Subject  Thor- 
oughly, we  should  Know  the  Causes  of  Quality  and  Pitch — The 
Note  and  Half -Note— Written  Music  :  the  Staff— Treble  Clef- 
Bass  Clef — C  Clef — Sharps  and  Flats — Music  among  the  Greeks 
— How  Developed  by  Effects  of  Comparison,  First  by  Way  of 
Congruity — The  Gregorian  Chant  an  Endeavor  to  Imitate  the 
Speaking  Voice — Intonation  is  Based  on  Comparison  by  Way  of 
Repetition — Melody,  Developed  from  this,  is  Based  on  Compari- 
son by  Way  of  Consonance  :  Pythagoras  and  the  Origin  of  Musical 
Scales — Variety,  Introducing  Contrast,  Incongruity,  Alteration, 
and  Dissonance,  Necessitates,  for  Unity  of  Effect,  Complement, 
Balance,  Alternation,  and  Interchange — Octaves,  as  Sung  together 
by  the  Greeks,  a  Form  of  Parallelism— Polyphonic  Music,  as  De- 
veloped from  this,  and  from  Methods  of  Alternation,  Complication, 
and  Interchange — Harmonic  Music  Developed  by  a  Renewed 
Application  of  the  Methods  of  Order,  Principality,  etc. — Causes 
of  the  Rise  of  Harmonic  Music. 

XIV. 

Musical  Scales  as  Developed  by  the  Art-Method 
of  Grouping  Like  Partial  Effects  of  Un- 
like Complex  Wholes      ....         192-206 

As  Harmony  is  Developed  from  Melody,  to  Understand  Music, 
we  must  First  Learn  why  Certain  Notes  are  Fitted  to  Follow  One 


xxxii  CONTENTS. 

PAGH 

Another — Scales  Constructed  from  the  Sense  of  Hearing,  and  All 
Scales  Similar,  therefore  the  Same  Law  Underlies  them — Sounds 
Differ  in  Quality — Musical  Sounds  Result  from  Regularly  Periodic 
Vibrations — Differences  in  Loudness  from  the  Different  Amplitude 
of  Vibrations,  and  in  Pitch  from  the  Different  Time  of  Vibrations 
— Differences  in  Quality  from  the  Different  Combinations  of  Vibra- 
tions— Vibrations  Compounded,  and  Each  of  the  Compounds  Intro- 
duces into  the  Tone  a  Pitch  or  Partial  Tone  of  its  Own — Law  of 
Sequence  of  the  Upper  Partial  Tones  of  Musical  Notes — Exam- 
ple in  Music — Correspondence  of  the  Earliest  Greek  Scale  with 
the  Chief  Partial  Tones  of  its  Keynote — And  of  our  Own  Major 
Scale — A  Possible  Scale  of  Ten  Notes — Our  Minor  Scale — These 
Scales  All  Constructed  on  the  Principle  of  Grouping  Like  Partial 
Effects  of  Unlike  Complex  Wholes — The  Method  in  which  the 
Greeks,  Ignorant  of  Partial  Tones,  were  Guided  to  these  Results 
by  their  Sense  of  Hearing — How  they  Constructed,  by  Measuring 
the  Length  of  Strings,  the  Lyre  of  Orpheus — Similar  Results 
Reached  by  the  Moderns  through  Counting  Vibrations,  and  the 
Resulting  Ratios — The  Ratios  of  the  Chinese  Scale  of  Six  Notes 
as  Developed  by  the  Ancients — The  Ratios  of  the  Greek  Scale 
of  Seven  Notes — Other  Greek  Scales — Deficiencies  of  the  Greek 
Scale  and  the  Development  of  the  Modern  Scales — Comparison 
between  the  Ratios  of  these  and  of  the  Pythagorean  Scale — The 
Keys  of  the  Piano  and  the  Scales  Played  from  the  Different  Key- 
notes— The  Temperate  Scale  of  the  Present,  and  its  Ratios  as 
Compared  with  the  Pythagorean,  the  Major,  and  the  Minor. 

XV. 

Musical  Harmony  as  Developed  by  the  Art- 
Method  of  Grouping  Like  Partial  Effects 
of  Unlike  Complex  Wholes    .         .         .         207-220 

Historical  Developments  from  Counteraction,  etc.,  as  Involved  in 
Polyphonic  Music — Connection  between  the  Concords  and  the 
Lowest  or  Chief  Partial  Tones  of  a  Compound  Note — Harmony 
Emphasizes  the  Fact  that  Like  Partial  Effects  are  Put  with  Like — 
Visible  Proof  of  this — All  the  Notes  of  a  Scale  Harmonized  by 
Using  Chords  Based  on  the  Tonic,  Dominant,  and  Subdominant 
— Different  Possible  Arrangements  of  the  Same  Chord — The  Ca- 
dence and  the  Dissonance  of  the  Seventh — The  Principal  Key — 


CONTENTS.  XXXlll 

PAGE 

Application  of  Subordination,  Balance,  Central-Point,  Parallelism, 
Symmetry,  Alternation,  Massing,  Complication,  Continuity,  etc. 
— And  Other  of  the  Methods  of  Art-Composition — Interchange  as 
an  Element  of  Modulation — And  Gradation,  Abruptness,  Transi- 
tion, and  Progress — Interchange  and  Gradation  in  Sounding  the 
Same  Note  in  Successive  Chords — In  Passing  from  One  Key  to 
Another,  by  Making  the  Tonic  or  Subdominant  of  One  Key  the 
Dominant  of  Another — By  Passing  from  Major  to  Minor,  or  Vice 
Versa — Further  Exemplified  and  Explained — Relations  of  Differ- 
ent Chords  to  One  Another — Abruptness  in  Transitions — The 
Chords  Considered  Separately — The  Major  Triad — The  Chord 
of  the  Seventh— The  Minor  Triad— The  Ratios  of  the  Notes  of 
these  Chords  when  in  the  Same  Octaves — Summary  of  the  Ratios 
of  Notes  Causing  Musical  Concords. 

XVI. 

Psychical  and  Physical  Reasons  for  the  Effects 

of  Musical  Form 221-228 

Relations  of  the  Ratios  Underlying  Effects  in  Music  to  those  in  the 
Other  Arts — Why  is  it  Necessary  that  Notes  should  Chord  ? — Psy- 
chological Reason — Correspondence  of  it  to  the  Reason  Given  for 
Effects  of  Rhythm — Physiological  Confirmation  of  this  Reason — 
Beats  Resulting  from  Discordant  Notes — New  Resulting  Notes 
Formed  by  these  Beats — In  the  Major  Triad,  the  Resulting  Note 
is  itself  the  Tonic — Beats  Disagreeable,  because  Interruptions  of 
the  Regularity  of  Periodic  Vibrations — Cause  Noise,  not  Music — 
Blending  of  Psychological  and  Physiological  Reasons  for  Effects 
of  Musical  Form  :  Mind  and  Ear  must  Recognize  that  Like  is  Put 
with  Like. 


MUSIC  AS  A  REPRESENTATIVE  ART. 

Introduction 231-238 

I. 

Representation   in   Song   as    Contrasted    with 

that  in  Speech 239-249 

The  Sustained  Sounds  of  Singing  and  the  Unsustained  of  Talk- 
ing— The  Former  as  Developed  in  Music  and  the  Latter  in  Poetry 


XXXIV  CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

— Differences  between  these  Two  Methods  of  Vocal  Representation 
— Music  as  Necessitating  Sustained  Sounds — The  Germs  of  its  Rep- 
resentations are  mainly  in  Inarticulate  Utterance,  Instinctive  and 
Associative,  rather  than  Imitative  and  Comparative — The  Repre- 
sentation of  Speech,  also  Dependent  partly  upon  Inarticulate 
Intonations — How  these  are  Related  to  the  Various  Developments 
of  Music — Representation  in  Music  not  Distinct  and  Definite,  as 
in  Words — Darwin's  Theory  of  the  Origin  of  Music — Gurney's 
Comment  on  this — Further  Comments — Why  Music  is  not  Made 
Definitely  Intelligible  or  Imitative — How  it  Represents  both 
Mental  Processes  and  Natural  Surroundings — The  Mind  of  the 
Composer  not  Necessarily  in  the  Mood  Naturally  Represented  by 
his  Music — His  Relation  to  this  Mood  that  of  a  Painter  to  the 
Mood  Represented  in  his  Model's  Pose. 

II. 

Representation  through  Musical  Duration  and 

Force  :  Rhythm 250-263 

Similarity  of  Poetic  and  Musical  Representation — Representative 
Intonations  of  Elocution — Through  Duration,  Force,  Pitch,  and 
Quality — Discoursive  or  Associative  and  Dramatic  or  Comparative 
Elocution — Each  Representative  According  to  the  Principle  of  Cor- 
respondence— Musical  Duration  as  Representative — Musical  Dura- 
tion as  Representative  of  both  Mental  Moods  and  Natural  Effects 
— Illustrations — Musical  Force  as  Representative  of  both  Mental 
Moods  and  Natural  Effects — Rhythm  as  a  Combination  of  Effects 
of  Duration  and  Force — Significance  of  Rhythm — As  Representing 
Moods  of  Buoyancy  and  Exhilaration — Confidence,  Triumph — 
Self- Poise,  Dignity — The  Gliding,  Yielding,  Graceful — Hesitation, 
Doubt — Disturbance,  Turmoil,  Confusion — Imitative  Effects — 
Forging — Flight  Downward — Upward — Snakes — Water — Flowing 
Ease — Giants'  Tread. 

III. 

Representation   through  Musical  Pitch,    High 

and  Low,  Upward  and  Downward         .         264-273 

Correspondences  in  the  External  World  to  High  and  Low  Pitch — 
And  to  Upward  and  Downward  Directions  of  it — Further  Explana- 
tions— As    Illustrated     in    Elocutionary     Intonations — Gregorian 


CONTENTS.  XXXV 


PAGE 

Chants  as  Developed  from  Elocutionary  Laws — Upward  Movements 
in  Musical  Questions — In  Anticipative  Expectancy — Downward 
Movements  in  Effects  that  are  Conclusive — Affirmative  and  Positive 
— Combined  Upward  and  Downward  Movements  in  Effects  both 
Anticipative  and  Conclusive — The  Same  Rendered  Emphatic — 
Imitative  Effects  :  Upward  as  in  Rising — Downward  as  in  Sink- 
ing— In  Both  Directions. 


IV. 

Representation   through   Musical  Pitch  :   Com- 
bined Wave-Movements  ....         274-279 

The  Meaning  of  the  Elocutionary  Circumflex  or  Wave-Movements 
— Further  Explanations — How  these  Conditions  are  Paralleled  in 
Music — Illustrations  of  Inconclusive  Uncertainty  Ending  with 
Positive  and  Decisive  Effects — Of  Anticipation  Ending  with 
Finality — Of  the  Indecisive  Ending  with  the  Decisive — Of  Hope, 
Ending  with  Doubt — Of  Irony,  Mockery — Other  Illustrations. 


Representation  through  Blending  of  Pitch  as  in 

Musical  Harmony 280-290 

Elocutionary  Use  of  Pitch,  when  Indicative  of  Suspense — Blending 
of  Harmonic  and  Inharmonic  Intervals  of  Pitch,  as  Analogous  to 
Effects  of  Quality — Meanings  in  Speech  of  the  Major  and  the 
Minor  Interval — Their  Meanings  in  Music — Further  Explanations 
— The  Subdominant,  Dominant,  and  Tonic — Complete  and  In- 
complete Cadence — Explanations  of  their  Effects — Meanings  of 
Upward  and  Downward  Elocutionary  Harmonic  Cadences — Illus- 
trations of  the  Satisfying  Effects  of  Upward  Musical  Major  Ca- 
dences— Unsatisfying  Effects  of  Upward  Minor  Musical  Cadences 
— Satisfying  Effects  of  Downward  Major  Cadences — Unsatisfying 
Effects  of  Downward  Minor  Cadences — Wagner's  Use  of  Upward 
Anticipative  Movement  Followed  by  Downward  Minor  Cadences. 


xxxvi  CONTENTS. 

VI. 

PAGE 

Representation  through  Musical  Quality   .         291-300 

How  Musical  Quality  is  Determined — How  Determined  in  the 
Human  Voice— What  Different  Qualities  of  the  Voice  Represent 
— Their  Correspondences  in  Nature— Analogies  between  Quality  as 
Used  in  Elocution  and  in  Music— Representation  by  Way  of  As- 
sociation through  the  Use  of  Different  Musical  Instruments — The 
Same  Continued — Representation  through  these  by  Way  of  Imita- 
tion— Other  Examples. 

VII. 

Musical  Representation  in  Series  of  Passages  when 

not  Imitative $°i-2>i$ 

Series  of  Passages  as  Representative — By  Way  of  Association  as  in 
Discoursive  Elocution — As  Illustrated  by  Haweis — By  J.  D.  Rogers 
— Schumann's  "  In  der  Nacht" — Brahme's  German  Requiem — B. 
I.  Gilman's  Experiment — Explanation — Recorded  Result — Deduc- 
tion to  be  Drawn  from  these  Quotations  :  In  what  Sense  they  In- 
dicate that  Music  is  Representative — Quotation  from  J.  S.  Dwight 
Interpreting  the  most  Important  of  the  Forms  of  Musical  Composi- 
tion— Program  Music — Its  Appropriate  Use. 

VIII. 

Musical  Representation  in  Series  of  Passages  when 

Imitative,  with  Remarks  about  Wagner  .  314-323 

Influence  upon  Representation  of  Slight  Imitative  Effects — Exam- 
ples :  Barking  of  a  Dog — Braying  of  an  Ass — Nightingale's  Song 
— Cackling  of  a  Hen — Cluck  of  Same — Human  Sounds — Laugh- 
ter —  Yawning  —  Sneezing  —  Coughing —  Quarrelling — Sobbing — 
Scolding — Moaning — Fondling  —  Playing  —  Frightening  Others — 
Paganini's  Testimony — The  General  Character  of  Wagner's  Mo- 
tives—His Peculiar  Method  of  Using  them — Result  of  this,  Es- 
pecially upon  those  not  Previously  Appreciating  Music — His  Ten- 
dency toward  a  Language  of  Music — Will  Others  Develop  this — 
Two  Methods  in  which  it  may  be  Done  with  Safety — Conclusion. 

Index        .  325 


RHYTHM  AND  HARMONY  IN 
POETRY  AND  MUSIC 


RHYTHM    AND    HARMONY   IN    POETRY 
AND    MUSIC. 


CHAPTER    I. 

CORRESPONDENCES     BETWEEN    ELEMENTS    OF    FORM   IN 
THE   ARTS    OF   SOUND   AND    OF   SIGHT. 

Introduction — Object  of  the  Present  Volume — The  Arts  as  Separated  by 
the  Differences  between  Sound  and  Sight — Forms  as  Separated  by 
Silences  or  Pauses  among  Sounds,  and  by  Lines  or  Outlines  among 
Sights — Chart  of  the  Methods  of  Art-Composition — Separate  Effects 
of  Sound  Differ  in  Duration,  Force,  Quality,  and  Pitch  ;  and  of  Sights 
in  Extension,  in  Light  and  Shade  and  in  Quality  and  Pitch  of  Color 
— Respective  Correspondences  between  Effects  in  Sound  and  in  Sight — 
Combined  Influences  of  these  Effects  as  Manifested  in  Rhythm  and  in 
Proportion,  and  also  in  Harmony  of  Sound  and  of  Color. 

T  N  the  volume  entitled  "The  Genesis  of  Art-Form,"  the 
prominent  methods  of  composition  in  art  were  traced 
from  their  origin  in  elementary  conditions  of  mind  or 
of  matter  up  to  the  period  in  which  they  were  said  to  result 
in  rhythm,  as  applied  to  duration  in  time ;  in  proportion, 
as  applied  to  extension  in  space ;  and  in  harmony,  as  ap- 
plied to  quality  and  pitch,  whether  of  note  or  color.  A 
chart  representing  these  methods,  as  treated  in  that  vol- 
ume, as  well  as  their  order  of  development  and  their  inter- 
dependence, is  inserted  on  page  3.     It  should  be  known, 


2       RHYTHM  AND  HA RMON Y  IN  POE  TR  Y  AND  MUSIC. 

too,  that  in  the  first  volume  of  this  series  of  essays,  en- 
titled "  Art  in  Theory,"  Chapter  XIV.,  the  results  attained 
by  these  methods  were  shown  to  be  necessary  to  the 
effects  not  merely  of  art-composition,  but  also — and  this 
explains  their  use  in  art — to  those  of  all  beauty,  whether 
perceived  in  art  or  in  nature. 

The  present  volume  is  intended  to  take  up  the  discus- 
sion of  our  general  subject  at  the  point  where  it  was 
dropped  in  "  The  Genesis  of  Art-Form,"  and  to  study 
the  developments  in  poetry  and  music  of  rhythm  and 
harmony.  In  order  to  perceive  exactly  the  nature  of  the 
task  which  this  intention  involves,  as  well  as  the  corres- 
pondences between  the  phases  of  sound  that  are  to  be 
treated  and  analogous  phases  in  the  arts  of  sight,  let  us 
begin  by  recalling  a  few  of  the  more  prominent  facts 
with  reference  to  the  effects  of  the  arts  in  general. 

As  we  do  this,  a  first  fact  suggested  is  that  poetry  and 
music  are  composed  of  elements  of  sound  appealing  to 
the  ear  in  the  order  of  time,  and  that  painting,  sculpture, 
and  architecture  are  composed  of  elements  of  sight  appeal- 
ing to  the  eye  in  the  order  of  space. 

A  second  fact  suggested  is  that,  as  a  condition  for  con- 
structing a  form  whether  appealing  to  the  ear  or  eye, 
one  must  be  able  to  apprehend  and  use  more  than  one 
sound  or  one  object  of  sight.  A  sound  single  in  the  sense 
of  manifesting  neither  alteration  nor  cessation,  would  soon 
come  to  convey  no  more  intelligence  to  the  ear  than  ab- 
sence of  sound  ;  and  a  single  hue  of  the  same  shade  from 
nadir  to  zenith  would  soon  convey  no  more  intelligence 
to  the  eye  than  absence  of  hue.  In  order  to  be  under- 
stood and  used  by  a  man  who  cannot  conceive  of  time 
or  space  except  as  it  is  divided  into  parts,  that  which  is 
heard    must   be    interrupted    by  periods    of   silence   and 


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4       R  YII THM  A  ND  HA  RMON  Y  IN  POETRY  A  ND  M  USIC. 

that  which  is  seen  must  be  separated  from  other 
things  by  outlines.  This  is  the  same  as  to  say — and 
here  we  may  refer  to  the  chart  on  page  3 — that  what 
we  hear  must  have  a  certain  limit  of  duration  indicated 
by  pauses  in  the  sound  ;  and  that  what  we  see  must  have 
a  certain  limit  of  extension  indicated  by  lines.  How  shall 
the  artist  determine  what  these  limits  shall  be?  Fortu- 
nately, in  the  more  important  regards,  nature  herself  has 
determined  them.  As  for  poetry  and  music,  they  are  both 
developed,  primarily,  from  methods  of  using  the  human 
voice, — in  the  one  case  in  speech,  in  the  other  in  song ; 
and,  secondarily,  from  methods  in  which  sounds  external 
to  man  are  produced.  But  whenever  the  human  voice  is 
used,  pauses  are  used,  both  at  comparatively  short  inter- 
vals, after  separate  words  and  notes,  and  also  at  longer 
intervals  where  it  is  necessary  for  the  lungs  to  draw  in  air ; 
and  whenever  sounds  that  are  not  produced  by  the  human 
voice  are  heard,  they  too  are  separated  by  intervals  of 
silence.  Painting,  sculpture,  and  architecture,  again,  are 
developed  from  the  methods  in  which  men  use  or  perceive 
objects  in  the  external  world.  All  of  these  have  outlines 
not  only  separating  them  from  other  objects,  but  gener- 
ally also  separating  their  own  constituent  parts  from  one 
another.  What  more  natural  than  that  the  artist  should 
accept  such  arrangements  of  things  heard  or  seen  in  na- 
ture, and  should  let  them  determine,  according  to  meth- 
ods of  imitation,  the  relative  duration  or  extension  that 
shall  be  manifested  in  his  works?  As  a  fact,  we  know 
that  this  is  exactly  what  he  does  do. 

Duration  and  extension,  however,  are  not  the  only 
conditions  that  the  artist  must  consider.  As  shown  in 
"Poetry  as  a  Representative  Art,"  Chapter  III.,  sounds 
may  differ  not  merely  in  duration  or  the  quantity  of  time 


CORRESPONDENCES  IN  ARTS  OF  SOUND  AND  SIGHT.        5 

that  they  fill ;  but  also  in  force,  or  the  stress  with  which 
they  are  produced,  making  them  loud  or  soft,  abrupt  or 
smooth,  etc. ;  in  quality,  making  them  sharp  or  round,  full 
or  thin,  aspirate  or  pure,  etc. ;  and  in  pitch,  making  them 
high  or  low,  or  rising  or  falling  in  the  musical  scale.  Sights, 
too,  may  differ  in  analogous  ways,  i.  e.,  not  merely  in 
extension  or  the  quantity  of  space  that  they  fill,  which  is 
the  same  thing  as  size  ;  but  also  in  contour,  which  is  the 
same  thing  as  shape,  and  is  shown  by  the  appearance  of 
forcible  or  weak  lines  of  light  and  shade;  in  quality  of 
color,  which  has  to  do  with  their  tints  and  shades  and 
mixtures  ;  and  in  pitch  of  color,  which  is  determined  by 
the  hue. 

In  addition  to  merely  stating  these  facts,  it  may  be 
well  to  enlarge  upon  one  or  two  of  them.  Notice,  for  in- 
stance, how  true  it  is  that  force  which  gives  emphasis  to 
sounds,  rendering  them  more  distinct  from  one  another 
than  would  be  the  case  without  it,  corresponds  to  light 
and  shade,  which  emphasize  and  render  more  distinct  the 
contour  through  which  one  portion  of  space  having  a  cer- 
tain shape  is  clearly  separated  from  another.  Notice, 
also,  that  accented  and  unaccented  syllables  or  notes,  as 
they  alternate  in  time,  perform  exactly  analogous  func- 
tions to  those  of  light  and  shade,  as  they  alternate  in  space. 
The  impression  of  form,  for  instance,  which,  so  far  as  it  re- 
sults from  metre,  is  conveyed  by  varying  force  and  lack  of 
force  in  connection  with  divisions  made  in  time,  is  the 
exact  equivalent  of  that  impression  of  form,  which,  so  far 
as  this  results  from  shape,  is  conveyed  by  varying  light 
and  shade  in  connection  with  divisions  made  in  space. 
Notice,  again,  that  quality  and  pitch  are  terms  almost 
as  much  used  in  painting  as  in  music.  They  will 
be  fully  explained   in  another  volume.     At  present  it  is 


6      RH Y THM  A ND  HA RMON Y  IN  POETRY  A ND  M USIC. 

enough  to  say  that  the  first  depends,  in  both  these  arts, 
on  the  proportions  of  the  combinations  entering  into  the 
general  effect ;  and  that  the  second  depends  on  the  prop- 
erties of  the  elements  that  are  combined.  Undoubtedly, 
too,  it  is  owing  partly  to  a  subtle  recognition  of  the  corre- 
spondences just  indicated  that  to  certain  effects  in  the  arts 
both  of  sound  and  of  sight  the  more  general  terms,  tone 
and  color,  have  come  to  be  applied  interchangeably. 

Later  on,  in  connection  with  the  various  divisions  and 
subdivisions  under  which  will  be  treated  the  different 
phases  of  form  to  be  considered,  it  will  be  shown  in  what 
way  each  phase  is  influenced  by  all  the  methods  which, 
in  the  chart,  are  represented  as  determining  artistic  de- 
velopment. Here  it  is  sufficient  to  say  that  duration, 
limited  by  pauses  in  connection  with  force,  as  applied 
to  the  accents  of  syllables  or  notes,  gives  rise  to  rhythm  ; 
that  extension,  limited  by  outlines  in  connection  with 
light  and  shade,  as  applied  to  contour  or  shape,  gives 
rise  to  proportion  ;  that  quality  and  pitch  of  tone  taken 
together  furnish  the  possibility  of  developing  the  laws  of 
the  harmony  of  sound  ;  and  that  quality  and  pitch  of 
color  furnish  the  same  possibility  with  reference  to  the 
laws  of  the  harmony  of  color.  It  is  important  to  notice, 
too,  that  force  or  accent,  while  having  to  do  mainly  with 
rhythm,  has  a  certain  influence  also  upon  tune,  especially 
in  poetry  upon  the  tunes  of  verse,  and  in  music  especially 
where  it  is  necessary  to  make  the  tune  expressive  of  senti- 
ment ;  also  that,  in  the  same  way,  light  and  shade,  while 
having  to  do  mainly  with  proportion,  have  a  certain  in- 
fluence also  upon  color,  especially  in  order  to  inter- 
pret the  meaning  which  a  colored  surface  is  intended  to 
convey,  as,  for  instance,  whether  it  is  to  represent  what  is 
flat  or  round.     Correspondingly  also  it  is   important  to 


CORRESPONDENCES  IN  ARTS  OF  SOUND  AND  SIGHT.      J 

notice  that  quality  and  pitch  of  sound  are  often  necessary 
for  the  full  effects  of  force  as  applied  to  rhythm ;  and 
that  the  same  elements  of  color  are  often  necessary  for 
the  full  effects  of  light  and  shade  as  applied  to  pro- 
portion. In  fact,  when  used  in  the  same  arts,  the  effects 
that  are  now  to  be  considered  are  none  of  them  produced 
exclusively  according  to  one  method  or  to  one  combina- 
tion of  methods,  but  more  or  less  according  to  all  of  them 
when  operating  conjointly. 


CHAPTER  II. 


RHYTHM   IN  NATURE,  MIND,  AND   SPEECH  :    HOW  DEVEL- 
OPED   BY   METHODS   OF   ART-COMPOSITION. 


Rhythm  as  a  Form  of  Human  Expression — As  Manifested  in  External 
Nature — In  the  Action  of  the  Nervous  System,  and  in  that  of  the  Mind 
— Results  of  Experiments  Proving  Mental  Rhythmical  Action  ;  Groups 
Formed  from  Series  of  Uniform  Sounds — Of  Sounds  Regularly  Differing 
in  Accent  or  in  Duration — Inferences  from  these  Experiments — Speech 
as  Necessitating  Accent  and  Groups  of  Syllables — Larger  Groups  also — 
Inhalation  as  Necessitating  Pauses,  and  Causing  Composite  Groups — 
Adaptation  of  these  Conditions  to  Secure  Rhythmic  Effects  of  Unity 
and  Variety,  through  Order — Complexity,  Confusion,  Counteraction, 
Comparison,  Contrast,  and  Complement — Principality  and  Subordina- 
tion— Congruity,  Incongruity,  and  Comprehensiveness — The  Number 
of  Syllables  not  the  Basis  of  the  Measure-Units — Nor  Quantity — But 
Accent — Influence  of  Central-Point,  Setting,  Parallelism,  Organic  Form, 
Symmetry — Measures  Constructed  According  to  Accent — Others — 
Primitive  Method  of  Verse-Rhythm— Greek  and  Latin  Verse- Rhythm 
— English  and  its  Advantages. 


A  RT  did  not  originate  rhythm  nor  the  satisfaction  de- 
rivable from  it.  Long  before  the  time  of  the  first  ar- 
tists, men  had  had  practical  experience  of  its  pleasures. 
Long  before  the  age  of  poetry,  or  music,  or  dancing,  or 
even  of  fences  or  schoolboys,  the  primitive  man  had  sat 
upon  a  log  and  kicked  with  his  heels,  producing  a  rhythm 
as  perfect,  in  its  way,  as  that  of  his  posterity  of  the  pres- 
ent who  in  Africa  take  delight  in  stamping  their  feet  and 
clapping  their  hands,  and   in  America  in  playing  upon 


RHYTHM  IN  NATURE,  MIND,  AND   SPEECH.  9 

drums    and   tambourines,  in  order   to    keep    time   to  the 
movements  of  dancers  and  the  tunes  of  singers. 

When  we  come  to  ask  why  rhythm  should  be  produced 
thus,  either  by  itself  or  in  connection  with  poetry  or 
music,  in  short,  why  it  should  be,  as  seems  to  be  the 
case,  a  natural  mode  of  expression,  we  cannot  avoid 
having  it  suggested,  at  once,  that  it  corresponds  to  a 
method  characterizing  all  natural  movement  whatever, 
whether  appealing  to  the  eye  or  ear,  or  whether  produced 
by  a  human  being  or  perceived  in  external  nature.  There 
is  rhythm  in  the  beating  of  our  pulses,  in  the  alternate 
lifting  and  falling  of  our  chests  while  breathing,  in  our 
accenting  and  leaving  unaccented  the  syllables  of  our 
speech,  in  our  pausing  for  breath  between  consecutive 
phrases,  and  in  our  balancing  from  side  to  side  and  pushing 
forward  one  leg  or  one  arm  and  then  another,  while 
walking.  There  is  rhythm  in  the  manifestations  of  all 
the  life  about  us,  in  the  flapping  of  the  wings  of  the  bird, 
in  the  changing  phases  of  its  song,  even  in  the  minutest 
trills  that  make  up  its  melody,  and  in  the  throbbings  of 
its  throat  to  utter  them  ;  in  the  rising  and  falling  of  the 
sounds  of  the  wind  too,  and  in  the  swaying  to  and  fro 
of  the  trees  to  produce  these ;  as  well  as  in  the  flow  and 
ebb  of  the  surf  on  the  seashore  and  in  the  jarring  of  the 
thunder  and  the  zigzag  course  of  the  lightning.  In  fact, 
rhythm  seems  to  be  almost  as  intimately  associated  with 
everything  that  a  man  can  see  or  hear,  as  is  the  beating 
of  his  own  heart  with  his  own  life.  Even  the  stars,  like 
the  rockets  that  we  send  toward  them,  speed  onward  in 
paths  that  return  upon  themselves,  and  the  phrase, 
"  music  of  the  spheres  "  is  a  logical  as  well  as  a  poetical 
result  of  an  endeavor  to  classify  the  grandest  of  all  move- 
ments in  accordance  with  a  method  which  is  conceived  to 


I O      RH Y THM  A ND  HA RMON Y  IN  POETRY  A ND  M USIC. 

be  universal.  No  wonder  then  that  men  should  feel  the 
use  of  rhythm  to  be  appropriate  in  art-products  modelled 
upon  natural  products.  No  wonder  that,  connected  as  it 
is  with  natural  movement  and  life  and  the  enjoyment 
inseparably  associated  with  life,  it  should  seem  to  the 
civilized  to  be — what  certainly  it  seems  to  the  uncivil- 
ized— an  artistic  end  in  itself. 

Nor  is  this  view  of  it  suggested  as  a  result  merely  of 
superficial  observation.  It  is  substantiated  by  the  more 
searching  experiments  of  the  scientists.  There  have  been 
discovered,  for  instance,  in  addition  to  the  regular  beat  of 
the  heart,  and  independent  of  it,  rhythmical  contractions 
and  expansions  of  the  walls  of  the  arteries,  increasing  and 
decreasing  at  regular  intervals  the  supply  of  blood. 
Such  processes,  which,  according  to  Foster  in  his  "  Physi- 
ology," page  307,  may  be  observed  in  the  arteries  of  a 
frog's  foot  or  a  rabbit's  ear,  may  be  checked  by  cutting 
the  nerves  connecting  it  and  the  vaso-motor  system  ;  and 
this  fact  is  taken  to  indicate  that  there  is  a  rhythmic 
form  of  activity  in  the  nerve-centres  themselves.  Regular 
periodic  contractions  have  been  observed,  too,  in  the 
hearts  of  certain  animals  after  being  removed  from  the 
body ;  and  this  fact  has  been  attributed  to  the  presence 
in  them  of  nerve-ganglia,  acting  according  to  some  char- 
acteristic method.  Movements  of  the  same  kind  are 
mentioned,  also,  by  Isaac  Ott  in  his  "  Observations  upon 
the  Physiology  of  the  Spinal  Cord,"  in  "  Studies  from  the 
Biological  Laboratory  of  Johns  Hopkins  University,"  No. 
II.,  as  taking  place  in  certain  parts  of  the  bodies  of  dogs, 
cats,  and  rabbits  after  the  severing  of  the  spinal  cord  ;  the 
centres  for  which  movements  he  found  to  be  in  this  cord, 
about  the  level  of  the  sixth  and  seventh  lumbar  vertebrae 
in  rabbits,  and  of  the  fifth  lumbar  vertebra  in  dogs. 


RHYTHM  IN  NATURE,  MIND,  AND   SPEECH.         II 

Such  facts  with  reference  to  the  rhythmical  character  of 
nerve-action  seem  to  indicate  a  possibility  of  the  same  in 
mental  action.  Acting  upon  this  suggestion,  Dr.  Thaddeus 
L.  Bolton,  Demonstrator  and  Fellow  in  Clark  University, 
conducted  a  year  or  two  ago  a  series  of  very  interesting 
experiments,  which  are  described  by  him  in  a  thesis  on 
"  Rhythm  "  *  published  in  "  The  American  Journal  of 
Psychology,"  Vol.  VI.,  No.  2.  "  The  first  and  most  im- 
portant object "  of  these  experiments  are  said  to  have 
been  to  determine  "  what  the  mind  did  with  a  series  of 
simple  auditory  impressions,  in  which  there  was  absolutely 
no  change  of  intensity,  pitch,  quality,  or  time-interval," 
each  separate  impression  being  "  indistinguishable  from 
any  or  all  the  others." 

After  an  account  of  the  apparatus  producing  the  clicks, 
and  also  of  the  individual  experiences  of  the  persons 
listening  to  them,  Dr.  Bolton  reaches  the  following  con- 
clusions. Of  fifty  subjects,  only  two  failed  to  divide  the 
clicks  into  groups.  Of  twenty-one,  whose  experiences  are 
tabulated,  sixteen,  when  the  clicks  were  separated  by  an 
average  interval  of  .795,  calculated  in  thousands  of  seconds, 
formed  groups  of  twos.  When  the  average  intervals  were 
.526,  six  formed  groups  of  twos  with  a  tendency  to  form 
groups  of  fours.  When  it  was  .542,  five  formed  groups  of 
fours  with  a  tendency  to  divide  them  into  groups  of  twos. 
When  it  was  .307,  all  twenty-one  formed  groups  of  fours. 
When  it  was  .188,  twelve  formed  groups  of  fours  tending 
to  groups  of  eights.  When  it  was  .134,  seven  formed 
groups  of  eights,  tending  to  divide  into  two  groups  of 

1  The  author  wishes  to  express  his  indebtedness  to  President  G.  Stanley 
Hall,  Ph.D.,  LL.D.,  for  calling  his  attention  to  the  results  of  these  experi- 
ments, and  for  sending  him  the  thesis  in  the  form  in  which  it  was  printed  in 
accordance  with  the  requirements  for  the  university  degree  of  Doctor  of 
Philosophy. 


1 2      RH  YTHM  AND  HARMONY  IN  FOE TR  Y  AND  MUSIC. 

fours.  When  it  was  .145,  six  formed  groups  of  eights. 
When  it  was  .125,  three  formed  groups  of  eights  tending 
to  double  this  number.  When  it  was  .460,  seven  formed 
groups  of  threes.  When  it  was  .149,  six  formed  groups  of 
threes,  tending  to  groups  of  sixes.  When  it  was  .161,  two 
formed  groups  of  sixes,  tending  to  divide  into  two  groups 
of  threes.  When  it  was  .169,  seven  formed  groups  of  sixes. 
When  it  was. 1 37,  three  formed  groups  of  sixes  tending  to 
double  that  number.  When  it  was  .127,  six  noticed  no 
grouping,  but  periodic  intensive  changes  in  the  general 
effect,  and  when  it  was  .156,  two  formed  no  groups. 

Again,  in  a  case  in  which  the  first  of  groups  of  sixes  was 
accented,  when  the  average  interval  was  .323,  one  out  of 
three  subjects  grouped  by  fours  in  spite  of  the  accent. 
When  it  was  .263,  another  had  a  tendency  to  do  the  same, 
and  this  accent  did  not  convey  a  pleasant  impression  to 
any  of  them  until  the  average  intervals  was  .167  or  .137. 
At  the  former  rate  the  six  clicks  were  divided  by  one 
listener  into  two  groups  of  threes,  and  at  the  latter  rate 
by  both  the  other  listeners  into  three  groups  of  twos. 

In  a  case  in  which  the  first  of  groups  of  eights  was 
accented,  none  formed  groups  of  threes  or  sixes  ;  but  three 
out  of  five  formed  groups  of  fours,  when  the  average  in- 
terval was  .268 ;  and  when  it  was  .116,  all  formed  groups 
of  eights,  and  found  them  pleasant,  though  with  one 
listener  there  was  a  tendency  to  divide  this  into  sub-groups 
of  fours.  In  all  cases  "  the  five-group,"  i.  e.,  groups  of 
fives,  "  was  very  difficult  to  suggest  and  maintain."  As  a 
rule,  however,  it  was  found  that  "  any  regular  recurrent 
impression  which  is  different  from  the  rest " — either  by 
way  of  accent  or  of  duration — "  subordinates  the  other 
impressions  to  it  in  such  a  way  that  they  fall  together  into 
groups.     If  the  recurrent  difference  is  one  of   intensity 


RHYTHM  IN  NATURE,  MIND,  AND   SPEECH.  1 3 

(t,  e.y  of  accent),  the  strongest  impression  comes  first  in  the 
grouping  and  the  weaker  ones  after.  If  the  recurrent 
difference  is  one  of  duration,  the  longer  impression  comes 
last," — an  inference  drawn  from  the  fact  that  "  all  the 
subjects  found  great  difficulty  in  not  making  a  pause  after 
the  long  sound  which  compelled  them  to  begin  the  group 
with  the  short  sound."  These  two  results  taken  together 
show  that  when  accent  is  made  the  basis  of  poetical  or 
metrical  rhythm,  then  the  first  syllable  or  note  of  a  series 
— i.  e.,  of  a  foot  or  measure — seems  the  most  prominent, 
and  that  when  duration  or  quantity  is  made  the  basis, 
then  the  last  syllable  or  note  seems  so.  In  this  latter  case, 
as  Dr.  Bolton  says,  "  the  most  natural  foot  must  be  either 
iambic  or  anapaestic"  (see  Chapter  III.).  Or,  to  make  a 
different  application  of  the  principle,  the  most  natural 
ending  of  a  line  of  verse,  which  ending  the  voice  almost 
instinctively  prolongs,  is  the  one  which  is  most  common 
in  both  our  rhymed  and  blank  verse, — namely,  a  single 
accented  syllable. 

Without,  at  present,  considering  any  further  the  results 
of  these  experiments,  let  us  notice  that  we  should  have  a 
right  to  infer  that  series  of  sounds,  in  case  of  slow  move- 
ment, would  be  grouped  by  twos  or  threes ;  but  in  case 
of  more  rapid  movement,  that  they  would  be  grouped  by 
fours  or  sixes  or  eights  or  more ;  yet  always  with  a  ten- 
dency to  divide  the  fours  into  twos,  the  sixes  into  twos  or 
threes,  the  eights  into  twos  or  fours,  etc. ;  and  that  this 
tendency  would  become  a  certainty  in  case  every  second 
or  third  sound  were  either  accented  or  prolonged  more 
than  were  the  others. 

With  such  facts  in  mind,  let  us  turn  to  speech.  This 
we  find  composed  of  syllables  each  uttered  with  an  in- 
dividual stress,  which  separates  it  from  other  syllables; 


14   RHYTHM  AND  HARMONY  IN  POETR  Y  AND  MUSIC. 

but,  more  than  this,  we  find  that  every  second  or  third 
syllable  is  apt  to  be  accented,  and,  largely  because  ac- 
cented, is  apt  to  be  prolonged  more  than  are  the  other 
syllables.  The  reason  for  the  accent  is  physiological. 
The  vocalized  breath  flows  through  the  throat — as  water 
through  the  neck  of  a  bottle — with  what  may  be  termed 
alternate  active  and  passive  movements.  The  former  of 
these  movements  is  that  which  in  every  second,  third, 
fourth,  or  fifth  syllable,  produces  the  accent.  In  our 
language  all  words  of  more  than  one  syllable  have  come 
to  have  an  accent  that  is  fixed — as  distinguished  from 
variable,  which  may  be  affirmed  of  words  in  the  French ; 
and  all  our  monosyllabic  articles,  prepositions,  and  con- 
junctions are  unaccented,  unless  the  sense  very  clearly 
demands  a  different  treatment.  These  two  facts  enable 
one  to  arrange  any  number  of  our  words  so  that  the  fixed 
accents  shall  fall,  as  natural  utterance  demands  that  it 
should,  on  every  second,  third,  fourth  or  fifth  syllable. 

Words,  however,  are  not  uttered  slowly  but  rapidly. 
It  follows,  therefore,  that  while,  because  of  the  physiologi- 
cal necessity  of  accent,  there  must  be  these  small  groups 
of  two  or  three  syllables,  the  movement  is  rapid  enough 
for  other  groups  of  four,  six,  eight,  and  even  more  syl- 
lables, of  which  these  smaller  groups  of  twos  or  threes 
can  form  subdivisions. 

Now,  with  this  fact  also  in  mind,  let  us  turn  to  speech 
again.  Here  we  find  that  certain  smaller  groups  composed 
of  combined  accented  and  unaccented  syllables  are  them- 
selves combined  into  larger  groups,  which  are  separated 
from  other  larger  groups  of  the  same  composite  character 
by  the  necessity  experienced  of  pausing  at  certain  inter- 
vals in  order  to  draw  in  the  breath.  In  the  thesis  upon 
"  Rhythm  "  that  has  been  mentioned,  a  correspondence 


RHYTHM  IN  NATURE,  MIND,  AND   SPEECH.         1 5 

is  suggested,  though  not  indisputably  proved,  between 
the  time  occupied  by  these  larger  groups  in  a  rate  of 
movement  declared  by  the  listeners  to  be  pleasing, 
and  the  length  of  their  respirations.  But  whatever  may 
be  true  when  listening  to  sounds,  there  is  no  doubt 
about  the  influence  of  respiration  when  uttering  them. 
Whenever  it  is  necessary  to  pause,  in  order  to  breathe, 
one  series  of  groups  must  necessarily  be  separated  from 
another. 

Nature,  therefore,  furnishes  speech  with  two  character- 
istics,— accents  after  every  two,  three,  four,  or  five  sylla- 
bles, and  pauses  after  every  four,  six,  eight,  nine,  ten, 
twelve,  or  more  syllables.  Those  who  have  read  the 
former  volumes  of  this  series  are  now  asked  to  recall  what 
was  said  in  "  The  Genesis  of  Art-Form,"  and  is  represented 
in  the  chart  on  page  3,  with  reference  to  the  necessity 
universally  experienced  by  the  mind  of  conceiving  of 
effects — so  as  to  have  a  clear  apprehension  of  them — as  a 
unity ;  also  with  reference  to  the  fact  that  the  first  result 
of  an  effort  to  organize  into  a  unity  the  disorganized  con- 
ditions of  nature  as  we  find  it,  is  in  the  direction  of  order. 
Upon  recalling  these  statements,  it  will  be  recognized  how 
entirely  they  are  confirmed  by  the  results  of  the  experi- 
ments that  we  have  just  been  considering.  What  is  the 
mind  trying  to  do  in  putting  the  clicks  together  in  twos, 
threes,  fours,  etc.,  but  trying  to  make  a  unity  of  several  of 
them  ?  And  when  it  invariably  puts  one  that  is  prolonged 
or  accented  after  or  before  another  that  is  not,  what  is  it 
doing  but  securing  an  effect  of  unity  through  making  use 
of  a  certain  order  of  recurrence. 

Moreover,  it  was  shown  in  "  The  Genesis  of  Art-Form  " 
that  while  the  mind  experiences  a  necessity  of  conceiving 
of  effects  as  a  unity,  the  materials  actually  presented  to 


1 6      RHYTHM  AND  HARMON  Y  IN  POE  TR  Y  AND  MUSIC. 

it  in  nature,  out  of  which  it  must  form  this  unity,  invari- 
ably manifest  more  or  less  variety,  and  that  their  possession 
of  characteristics  some  of  which,  being  alike,  tend  to  unity, 
and  some  of  which,  being  unlike,  do  not,  causes  the  com- 
bined result  to  have  an  effect  of  complexity.  It  is  not 
necessary  to  point  out  how  much  greater  than  in  the  case 
of  clicks  is  the  extent  in  which  both  variety  and  complexity 
characterize  the  syllables  with  which  the  mind  must  deal 
when  trying  to  reduce  to  unity  the  elements  entering  into 
poetic  rhythm.  Nor — to  apply  to  the  development  of 
rhythm  the  art-methods  in  the  order  in  which  they  are  given 
on  page  3 — is  it  necessary  to  show  how  much  more  care 
must  be  expended  upon  securing  order  among  syllables, 
in  view  of  the  tendency  to  confusion  invariably  atten- 
dant upon  the  fact  that  some  are  long  and  some  short, 
some  accented  and  some  unaccented  ;  nor  does  it  need  to 
be  argued  that  this  tendency  can  be  counteracted  only  by  a 
method  of  grouping  the  syllables,  making  long  ones,  for 
instance,  invariably  precede  short  ones,  or  accented  ones 
precede  unaccented  ones ;  nor  that  the  grouping  to  be 
effective  in  securing  a  general  result  of  unity,  must  be 
made  in  accordance  with  the  principle  of  comparison,  i.  e,f 
of  putting  like  with  like, — a  principle  which  in  science,  as 
shown  in  "  The  Genesis  of  Art-Form,"  leads  to  classifica- 
tion, and  in  art  to  the  analogous  results  of  composition. 
In  putting  like  with  like,  in  this  case,  moreover,  notice 
that  each  of  the  like  groups,  contains,  as  a  rule, 
two  opposing  kinds  of  factors — long  syllables  and  short 
syllables,  or  else  accented  syllables  and  unaccented. 
Each  group  therefore  furnishes  an  example  of  contrast  as 
well  as  of  comparison,  and  because  the  two  contrasting  feat- 
ures in  it  make  up  a  single  group,  these  may  be  said  also 
to  complement  each  other  (see  page  3). 


RHYTHM  IN  NATURE,  MIND,  AND   SPEECH.         I J 

Now,  in  order  to  unfold  our  subject  logically,  let  us  go 
back  for  a  little,  and  ask  what  the  mind,  when  it  first 
attempts  to  make  rhythm  out  of  speech,  will  most  naturally 
select  as  the  basis  of  comparison  in  the  groups?  Will  it 
be  the  number  of  syllables  composing  them  ?  or  the  length 
of  these  syllables  ?  or  the  accents,  and  the  intervals  of 
time  between  them  ?  Evidently  for  successful  grouping 
one  of  these  elements  must  be  given  what  on  page  3  is 
termed  principality,  and  the  others  must  be  given  sub- 
ordination. 

It  seems  evident  that,  starting  with  speech  as  it  is,  and 
trying  to  make  it  rhythmical,  the  first  tendency  will  not 
be  to  make  the  numbers  of  syllables  composing  groups  the 
basis  of  comparison.  It  was  shown  in  Chapter  VIII.  of 
"  The  Genesis  of  Art-Form  "  that  comparison  is  practi- 
cally applied  to  results,  first,  by  way  of  congruity,  and  after- 
wards by  way  of  repetition  and  consonance  ;  moreover,  that 
congruity  causes  objects — whether  sounds  or  sight — to  be 
grouped  because  they  are  representative  of  like  sentiments. 
As  applied  to  language,  for  instance,  weighty,  grave,  and 
dignified  conceptions,  as  shown  in  Chapter  IV.  of  "  Poetry 
as  a  Representative  Art,"  would  require  slow  movement, 
whereas  light,  gay,  and  trifling  conceptions  would  require 
rapid  movement.  But  merely  to  fulfil  such  requirements 
would,  evidently,  necessitate  no  great  uniformity  in  the 
numbers  of  syllables  in  the  groups.  As  in  ordinary  prose, 
groups  of  one,  two,  or  three  syllables  would  continue 
equally  to  be  representative  of  the  same  general  senti- 
ment ;  or  else,  if  they  did  not,  in  case  the  sentiment 
should  change,  as  it  frequently  does,  congruity  itself  would 
lead  to  a  change  in  these  numbers.  This  is  a  somewhat 
scientific  way  of  saying  that,  when  we  are  using  words 
with  main  reference  to  the  thought  to  be  expressed,  as  is 


1 8      RHYTHM  AND  HARMONY  IN  POE  TRY  AND  MUSIC. 

always  the  case  when  we  begin  to  use  rhythm,  we  do  not 
put  them  into  measures  containing  absolutely  or  approxi- 
mately the  same  numbers  of  syllables.  In  rhythmical 
prose,  for  instance,  the  general  effect  is  congruous-,  but 
the  measures  are  usually  so  lacking  in  uniformity  that  to 
a  poetic  purist  they  seem  to  exemplify  incongruity  of  form, 
and,  taken  together,  to  manifest  what  on  page  3  is  termed 
comprehensiveness  of  form. 

For  the  same  reason  that,  when  we  begin  to  construct 
rhythm  out  of  ordinary  speech,  we  do  not  make  the 
numbers  of  syllables  in  the  groups  the  basis  of  rhythm, 
we  do  not  make  the  quantity  of  syllables  its  basis.  To 
arrange  speech  in  measures  uniformly  containing  long  or 
short  syllables  necessitates  as  late  an  artistic  development 
as  to  arrange  it  in  measures  uniformly  containing  few  or 
many. 

Only  one  feature  now  remains  unconsidered  to  which 
early  attempts  to  render  speech  rhythmical  can  give  what 
has  been  termed  principality.  This  feature  is  accent. 
But  notice  that  accent  thus  used  has  a  tendency  to  form 
the  larger  rhythmic  groups,  such  as  are  developed  into 
poetic  lines,  before  it  forms  the  smaller  ones,  such  as  are 
developed  into  measures.  The  effect  of  each  accent  is 
that  of  one  click,  and,  no  matter  whether  one  or  many 
unaccented  syllables  come  between  the  accented  ones,  a 
certain  number  of  the  latter,  so  long  as  all  are  separated 
by  like  intervals  of  time,  constitute  one  group  such  as 
forms  one  line  of  verse.  Later,  however,  but  only  later, 
it  is  perceived  that  the  effect  of  each  syllable  too  is  that 
of  one  click,  and  that,  by  attaching  a  certain  fixed  num- 
ber of  unaccented  syllables  to  each  accented  one,  smaller 
groups  can  be  formed,  such  as  constitute  poetic  measures. 
That  this  is  the  natural  order  of  development  of  the  ten- 


RHYTHM  IN  NATURE,  MIND  AND   SPEECH.  19 

dencies  that  lead  to  lines  and  measures,  can  be  confirmed 
by  the  slightest  observation  of  ordinary  talking  and  recit- 
ing. In  these  we  always  find  an  inclination  to  introduce 
the  accented  syllables  with  approximate  regularity.  This 
inclination  needs  only  a  little  artistic  development,  and 
they  can  be  introduced  with  absolute  regularity.  When 
this  has  been  done,  the  form  seems  made  up  of  equal 
parts  determined  by  the  emphasized  syllables.  Notice  that 
the  only  requirement  necessary  for  a  rhythmical  reading  of 
the  verses  on  page  20,  is  to  separate  the  accented  syllables 
by  like  intervals  of  time.  The  one  syllable  "  Break,"  for 
instance,  must  be  read  in  the  same  time  as  "  On  thy  cold  "  ; 
and  the  three  syllables  "  Break,  break,  break,"  in  the  same 
time  as  the  seven  syllables  in  the  line  following  them.  In 
other  words,  to  describe  this  method  of  reading  according 
to  the  phraseology  used  in  the  chart  on  page  3,  it  is  neces- 
sary to  give  principality  to  the  accented  syllable,  and 
through  it  to  the  element  of  like  intervals  of  time,  and  to 
give  subordination  to  the  intervening  unaccented  syllables. 
When  this  is  done,  moreover,  notice  that  it  is  necessarily 
done  in  such  a  way  that  the  accented  and  unaccented 
syllables  seem  to  balance  each  other. 

Notice  also  that  the  giving  of  principality  to  accent  con- 
centrates attention  upon  this  as  the  important  considera- 
tion, in  accordance  with  the  method  termed  in  the  chart 
central  point ;  also  that  the  unaccented  syllables,  many  or 
few,  following  the  accented  appear  to  be  only  a  setting 
accompanying  them ;  and,  in  addition  to  this,  that  the 
accented  and  unaccented  syllables  of  each  foot  as  well 
as  of  the  whole  lines  compared  each  to  each,  sustain  rela- 
tions that  can  be  described  as  those  of  parallelism.  Read- 
ing the  verses  as  indicated,  we  shall  perceive  also  that,  as 
a  whole,   they  produce,  as  related  more  particularly  to 


20      RHYTHM  A ND  HARMON Y  IN  POE TRY  AND  MUSIC. 

comparison,  the  effect  of  organic  form  and  as  related  to 
congruity,  the  effect  of  symmetry,  concerning  all  which 
methods,  consult  "  The  Genesis  of  Art-Form,"  Chapters 
X  and  XL 

It  is  worth  while  to  observe,  too,  that  any  purist,  ancient 
or  modern,  insisting  upon  the  necessity  in  poetry  of  having 
a  certain  number  of  syllables  in  either  a  measure  or  a  line, 
or  upon  having  an  accent  upon  a  certain  one  or  another 
of  these  syllables,  would  have  great  difficulty  in  proving  in 
what  sense  his  law  could  be  carried  out  in  this  kind  of  verse. 
Notice,  however,  that  the  explanations  of  all  these  apparent 
departures  from  rules  are  simple  enough,  when  we  get 
under  the  rules  to  the  principles  which  they  exemplify. 


Break,  break,  break, 

On  thy  cold  gray  stones,  oh  sea. 

And  I  would  that  my  tongue  could  utter 

The  thoughts  that  arise  in  me. 

Break,  Break,  Break — Tennyson. 

Similar  principles  are  evidently  carried  out  in  the  fol- 
lowing, every  alternate  line  of  which  contains,  as  a  rule, 
the  same  number  of  accents. 

Four   accents  Day  after  day,  day  after  day, 

Three        "  We  struck,  nor  breath  nor  motion, 

Four  "  As  idle  as  a  painted  ship 

Three        "  Upon  a  painted  ocean. 

Four  "  Water,  water,  everywhere, 

Three  "  And  all  the  boards  did  shrink  ; 

Four  "  Water,  water,  everywhere, 

Three  "  .  Nor  any  drop  to  drink. 

Four  I  closed  my  lids  and  kept  them  close, 

Three        "  Till  the  balls  like  pulses  beat  ; 

Four  "  For  the  sky  and  the  sea  and  the  sea  and  the  sky  | 

Four  "  Lay  like  a  load  on  my  weary  eye, 

Three        "  And  the  dead  were  at  my  feet. 

—  The  Ancient  Mariner  :  Coleridge. 


RHYTHM  IN  NATURE,  MIND,  AND   SPEECH.         21 

The  kind  of  versification  used  here  is  sometimes  spoken 
of  as  if  it  were  originated  by  Coleridge.  As  a  fact,  how- 
ever, when  adopted  by  him  it  was  not  new  even  to 
English  poetry,  as  may  be  recognized  by  comparing  with 
it  the  quotation  from  Milton,  on  page  40.  Nor  was  it 
new  in  any  sense.  It  was  merely  a  return  to  one  of  the 
oldest  of  forms — such,  for  instance,  as  is  exemplified  in 
Hebrew  poetry — affording  thus  one  more  of  many  proofs 
that  frequently  a  result  is  artistic,  for  the  sole  reason  that 
it  fulfils  exactly  a  primary  and  instinctive  requirement  of 
nature. 

But  it  may  be  asked,  have  we  not  derived  our  system 
of  versification  from  that  of  the  classic  languages,  and  was 
this  not  based  upon  quantity  rather  than  upon  accent  ? 
Certainly ;  but,  while  observing  these  facts  let  us  observe 
also  that  the  classic  system  was  not  an  elementary  but  a 
late  development  of  rhythm.  In  our  first  chapter  it  was 
pointed  out  that  in  rhythm  the  influences  of  force  and  of 
duration  are  practically  inseparable.  Poetic  measures,  as 
we  have  now  found,  result,  primarily,  from  force  given  to 
syllables  at  regular  intervals  of  duration.  But  careful  ob- 
servation will  reveal  that,  as  a  rule,  the  application  of  this 
force  necessarily  involves  also  an  increase  in  the  duration 
of  the  accented  syllable.  This  increase  is  made  in  speech 
unconsciously  ;  in  music  it  is  made  consciously  ;  and  this 
was  the  case  in  the  classic  metres,  furnishing  one  proof, 
which  is  confirmed  by  others,  that  they  were  results  of  an 
effort  to  intone  verses — i.  e.,  to  make  music  of  them.  But 
besides  this  let  us  notice  another  fact.  As  accent  is 
necessarily  accompanied  by  an  increase  in  quantity,  it  is 
impossible  that  our  own  metres  also,  though  determined 
by  accent,  should  not  manifest  some  traces  of  the  influ- 
ence of  quantity.  See  what  is  said  on  page  34  of  the 
necessity  of  considering  this  in  the  construction  of  even 


22      RHYTHM  AND  HARMONY  IN  POETR  Y  AND  MUSIC, 

English  hexameters.  But  if  our  metres  show  some  in- 
fluence of  quantity,  the  converse  must  be  true.  The 
Greek  metres  must  show  some  influence  of  accent.  Do 
they  ?  "  It  is  easy  to  see,"  says  Dr.  Schmidt,  in  his 
"  Rhythmic  and  Metric  of  the  Classic  Languages,"  "  that 
a  Greek  verse  can  and  must  be  pronounced  throughout 
with  the  prose  accents,  and  that  this  can  be  done  without 
any  conflict  arising  between  the  prose  accents  and  the 
quantity  of  syllables  and  their  ictus  in  poetry.  The  fol- 
lowing verse  must,  therefore,  be  read  thus: 


*Av-dqa  juoi    Iv  -   ve  -  ne,  Mov-oa,  no  -  Xv-tqo-71ov,     6s       pd-Xa     nol-X&, 

"  Here,  as  it  happens,  the  high  tone  and  the  ictus  coin- 
cide in  the  first  measures,  but  not  in  the  fifth  and  sixth. 
But  in  English,  as  before  remarked,  the  high  tone  is 
almost  always  joined  to  the  ictus.  .  .  .  The  following 
verse  is  accented  in  reading  as  follows : 


i    ,    J         ,1         i    ,    J 

! I g=:  *       —m — j — *- 


-*—t 


Hail      to       the      chief    who       in        tri   -    umph      ad   -   van    -    ces. 

It  is  true  that  in  constructing  verse  the  Greeks  and 
Romans  subordinated  accent  to  quantity.  Unlike  our- 
selves, if  in  composing  they  came  to  a  word  in  which  long 
quantity  and  the  ordinary  accent  did  not  go  together, 
they  seem  always  to  have  been  at  liberty  to  disregard 
the  accent,  and  occasionally,  too,  they  could  change  the 
quantity.  In  fact,  they  could  change  both  quantity  and  ac- 
cent in  order  to  produce  a  rhythmic  effect  when  chanting, 
analogous  to  that  which  we  produce  when  reading.     In 


RHYTHM  IN  NA  TURE,  MIND,  AND   SPEECH         23 

serious  poetry,  it  was  lawful  for  them  to  produce  results 
not  wholly  unlike  that  in  the  third  rhyme  of  the  follow- 
ing, the  classic  quality  of  which  some  of  us  hitherto  may 
not  have  recognized  : 

For  he  might  have  been  a  Roosian, 
A  French,  or  Turk,  or  Proosian, 

Or  perhaps  I-tal-i-an. 
But  in  spite  of  all  temptations 
To  belong  to  other  nations, 

He  remains  an  Englishman. 

— Pinafore  :  Gilbert. 

Our  poets,  on  the  contrary,  have  gone  back  to  the 
primitive  methods,  antedating  those  of  Greece,  and  base 
the  rhythms  of  their  verse  on  the  accents  of  speech. 
The  result,  as  compared  with  the  language  of  our  prose, 
is  more  natural  than  that  reached  by  the  other  method  ; 
and  in  its  way  is  fully  as  artistic.  Nor,  in  other  regards, 
is  English  inferior  to  the  classic  tongues  in  its  capabilities 
for  artistic  treatment.  Owing  to  an  extensive  use  of  ter- 
minations in  nouns,  articles,  pronouns,  adjectives,  and 
verbs,  in  order  to  indicate  different  grammatical  relation- 
ships, the  Greeks  and  Romans  could  change  the  order  of 
words  in  a  sentence  without  changing  its  meaning.  In 
their  language,  "  The  dog  ate  the  wolf,"  with  slightly 
varied  terminations,  could  read,  "  The  wolf  ate  the  dog." 
For  this  reason,  they  could  alter  their  phraseology,  in 
order  to  accommodate  it  to  the  requirements  of  metre,  as 
is  not  possible  for  us  ;  and  so  far  they  had  an  advantage 
over  us.  Nevertheless,  for  some  reason,  when  they  came 
to  put  their  words  into  verse,  as  every  schoolboy  who 
tries  to  scan  knows,  they  produced  a  language  which, 
like  the  present  French  poetic  diction,  sounded  unlike 


24      RH  YTHM  AND  HARMON  Y  IN  POE TR  Y  AND  MUSIC. 

that  of  conversation.  Even  supposing,  with  some  schol- 
ars, that  in  reading  they  did  not  scan  their  verses  as  we 
do  now,  nor  even  chant  them  invariably,  as  some  infer 
was  the  case,  their  poetic  language  was  not  the  same  as 
their  spoken  language.  Aristotle  tells  us,  when  mention- 
ing things  which  it  is  legitimate  for  the  poet  to  do,  that 
he  can  invent  new  words,  that  he  can  expand  old  ones, 
either  by  lengthening  vowels  or  by  adding  syllables,  that 
he  can  contract  them  by  shortening  vowels  or  omitting 
syllables,  and  that  he  can  alter  them  in  various  other 
ways.  Spenser  and  others  since  him  have  applied  similar 
methods  to  English  poetic  diction  ;  but,  at  present,  such 
changes,  except  in  rare  instances,  are  not  considered  ad- 
missible, and  this  because  they  are  recognized  to  be  un- 
necessary. The  fact  that  they  are  not  admissible  in  our 
language,  and  were  admissible  in  the  classic  languages, 
proves  that,  in  one  regard  at  least,  our  language  is  superior 
to  them  as  a  medium  of  metre.  The  following  is  a  typical 
English  stanza.  In  it  there  are  no  changes  from  ordinary 
prose  in  the  arrangement,  spelling,  or  punctuation  of  any 
of  the  words : 

He  will  hold  thee,  when  his  passion  shall  have  spent  its  novel  force, 
Something  better  than  his  dog,  a  little  dearer  than  his  horse. 

— Locksley  Hall :    Tennyson. 

In  this  chapter  we  have  been  considering  rhythm  as 
related  to  certain  general  underlying  principles,  an 
acquaintance  with  which,  as  has  been  intimated,  is  all 
that  is  absolutely  necessary  for  either  reading  or  writing 
poetry.  But,  for  a  full  understanding  of  the  subject,  the 
formal  systems  of  metre  and  versification  into  which,  in 
our  language  as  in  others,  these  principles  have  been 
developed,  ought  also  to  be  examined.  This  will  be 
done  in  the  chapters  following. 


CHAPTER  III. 

ART-METHODS  AS   DEVELOPING   MEASURE   AND   VERSE. 


The  Art  Methods,  especially  Repetition,  as  Causing  Groups  of  Syllables  in 
Measures — Double  and  Triple  Measures — Initial,  Terminal,  Median, 
Compound,  and  Double  Initial  and  Terminal — Significance  of  Each 
Measure — Art-Methods  as  Causing  Groups  of  Measures  in  Lines — He- 
brew Parallelism,  and  Greek — The  Couplet — The  Caesura — Lines  of 
One,  Two,  Three,  Four,  Five,  Six,  and  More  Measures — Examples  of 
Them — The  Iambic  Tetrameter — The  Iambic  Pentameter,  Heroic 
Measure,  Blank  Verse — The  Classic  Hexameter — English  Hexameter — 
Children  of  the  Lord's  Supper — Another  Example — A  Translation 
from  the  Iliad — The  Alexandrine. 


TT  will  be  noticed  that,  according  to  the  chart  on  page 
3,  the  methods  already  mentioned  are  all  those  that 
are  absolutely  necessary  for  the  production  of  rhythm, 
the  methods  further  developed  from  these  being  more 
particularly  connected  with  harmony.  At  the  same  time, 
even  these  latter  methods  are  only  more  subtle  manifesta- 
tions of  the  former,  and  certain  traces  of  them  are  appa- 
rent even  in  rhythm.  This  is  especially  true  of  repetition, 
and  the  methods  immediately  connected  with  it.  The 
artistic  tendency  to  comparison  needs  only  to  be  intensi- 
fied, as  applied  to  the  form,  and  it  will  cause  accented 
syllables  in  all  cases  to  be  separated  by  exactly  the  same 
number  of  unaccented  syllables ;  and  will  also  cause  ex- 
actly the  same  number  of  both  accents  and  syllables  to 
be  placed  in  each  line.  When  this  has  been  done, — even 
before  it  has  been  done  as  we  have  noticed  in  the  poetry 

25 


26      RHYTHM  AND  HARMON Y  IN  POE  TR  Y  AND  MUSIC. 

already  quoted — each  accented  syllable,  together  with 
one  or  more  unaccented,  seems  to  constitute  one  group  ; 
and  a  certain  number  of  these  groups  to  constitute  one 
line.  As  a  result,  the  line  can  be  regularly  measured  by 
the  number  of  the  groups  into  which  it  is  divided.  For 
this  reason  they  are  termed  measures,  and,  owing  to  a  sup- 
posed correspondence  of  movement  between  the  use  of 
one  measure  after  another,  and  that  of  the  feet  in  walk- 
ing, they  are  also  termed  feet. 

In  general,  we  may  divide  all  possible  measures  into 
two  classes,  namely,  those  that  are  double  and  those  that 
are  triple.  The  first  are  made  up  of  feet  of  two  syllables, 
every  other  of  which  is  accented,  e.  g.  : 

When  the  |  hours  of  |  day  are  |  numbered. 

It  also  includes  feet  of  four  syllables,  only  one  of  which 
receives  a  strong  accent ;  though  the  second  from  it  may 
receive  a  subordinate  accent.  The  general  effect,  there- 
fore, of  this  measure,  which  is  sometimes  termed  quadru- 
ple, is  that  of  a  doubled  double  measure,  e.  g. : 

Roses  are  in  |  blossom  and  the  |  rills  are  filled  with  |  water-cresses. 

Triple  measures  contain  three  syllables,  e.  g.  : 

Cannon  to  |  right  of  them,  |  cannon  to  |  left  of  them. 

But  besides  being  distinguished  from  one  another  by 
the  number  of  syllables  composing  them,  measures  differ 
according  to  the  syllable  in  them — whether  the  first, 
second,  third,  or  fourth — that  receives  the  accent.  This 
method  of  difference  in  connection  with  the  other  just 
noticed  leads  us  to  find  six,  or,  in  case  we  consider  the 
quadruple   measures   other    than    modifications    of    the 


DEVELOPING  MEASURE  AND   VERSE.  2*] 

double,  eight  kinds  of  measures  (see  page  103).  Here 
they  are  with  names  indicative  of  the  methods  of  forming 
them,  in  connection  with  which  are  given  also  the  terms 
of  Greek  origin  ordinarily  assigned  to  them.  But  as  these 
terms  apply  to  arrangements  of  quantity  rather  than  of 
accent,  they  frequently  fail  to  describe  accurately  the 
English  measures.  Hence  the  use  here  of  the  new 
terms. 

Initial  or  initial  double  measure  is  accented  on  the  first 
syllable,  and  corresponds,  if  composed  of  one  long  syllable 
followed  by  one  short,  to  the  Greek  trochee  or  choree  ;  if 
of  two  long,  to  the  Greek  spondee. 

When  the  |  hours  of  |  day  are  |  numbered. 

Terminal  or  terminal  double  measure  is  accented  on 
the  second  syllable,  and  corresponds,  if  composed  of  one 
short  followed  by  one  long  syllable,  to  the  Greek 
iambus. 

Among  I  thy  fan  |  cies,  tell  |  me  this. 

Initial  triple  measure,  if  composed  of  one  long  followed 
by  two  short  syllables,  is  the  same  as  the  Greek  dactyl. 

Out  of  the  I  cities  and  |  Into  the  |  villages. 

Median  or  medial  triple  measure,  i.  e.,  triple  measure  with 
the  accent  on  the  middle  syllable,  if  composed  of  one 
short,  one  long,  and  one  short  syllable,  is  the  same  as  the 
Greek  amphibrach. 

There  came  to  |  the  beach  a  |  poor  exile  |  of  Erin. 

Terminal  triple  measure,  if  composed  of  two  short  sylla- 
bles followed  by  a  long  one,  is  the  same  as  the  Greek 
anapaest. 

If  our  land  |  lord  supply  |  us  with  beef  \  and  with  fish, 


28      RHYTHM  AND  HARMON  V  IN  ROE  TRY  AND  MUSIC. 

Compound  or  compound  triple  measure  is  accented  on 
the  first  and  third  syllables,  and,  if  composed  of  one  long, 
one  short,  and  one  long  syllable,  is  the  same  as  the  Greek 
amphimacrus. 

Nearer  my  |  God  to  thee  |  E'en  tho'  It  |  be  a  cross. 

Initial  quadruple,  double  initial,  or  di-initial  measure  is  a 
form,  as  already  said,  of  double  measure,  and  is  usually 
the  same  as  the  Greek  ditrochee,  e.  g.  : 

Roses  are  in  |  blossom  and  the  |  rills  are  filled  with  |  water-cresses. 

Terminal  quadruple,  double  terminal  or  di-terminal  meas- 
ure is  another  form  of  double  measure,  and  is  usually  the 
same  as  the  Greek  diiambus,  e.  g. : 

The  king  has  come  |  to  marshal  us. 

In  "  Poetry  as  a  Representative  Art,"  Chap.  VI.,  the 
sentiments  which  each  of  these  measures  is  fitted  to  repre- 
sent are  pointed  out  by  showing  the  analogy  between  it 
and  a  corresponding  elocutionary  method  of  expression. 
There  is  no  necessity  of  repeating  here  what  is  fully  ex- 
pressed there.  Nor  is  it  necessarily  connected  with  those 
questions  concerning  form  which  we  are  now  considering. 

We  have  found  that  rhythm,  besides  being  determined 
by  the  difference  between  accented  and  unaccented 
syllables,  necessitated  by  the  flow  of  the  breath  through 
the  larynx,  is  also  determined  by  the  difference  between 
exhaling  and  inhaling  the  breath  ;  and  that,  as  the  first 
requirement  leads  to  the  grouping  of  syllables  in  meas- 
ures, the  second  leads  to  the  grouping  of  measures,  or 
rather,  primarily,  of  the  accents  determining  the  measures, 
into  lines.  Of  course,  no  one  supposes  that  those  who 
originated  lines  had  any  conception  of  their  having  any 


DEVELOPING  MEASURE  AND  VERSE.  29 

connection  with  the  necessity  of  stopping  in  order  to 
breathe.  Art  is  a  development  of  natural  tendencies,  of 
which  we  are  not  always  conscious.  As  a  rule,  it  is  only 
after  science  has  brought  these  to  light  that  they  are  recog- 
nized as  sustaining  the  relationship,  which  they  do,  to  the 
forms  in  which  they  have  developed.  There  is  no  doubt, 
however,  about  the  relationship  in  this  case.  Indeed, 
Aristotle,  in  his  "  Rhetoric,"  hints  at  the  same  cause  as 
underlying  our  modern  divisions  in  prose,  for  he  says  that 
the  period  must  be  divided  into  clauses,  easily  pronounced 
at  a  breath,  ei  ava7rv€V(Tro?. 

It  is  evident  that  to  even  an  unconscious  application  of 
a  principle  such  as  this,  we  need  only  add  the  artistic 
tendency  toward  comparison,  as  manifested  in  putting  like 
with  like,  and  it  will  lead  to  that  which  some  have  sup- 
posed to  be  the  earliest  known  form  resembling  versifica- 
tion, namely,  the  parallelism  used  by  the  Hebrews.  This 
is  so  called  because  it  contained  two  like  or  parallel  state- 
ments of  like  or  approximate  length,  as  in  the  following: 

The  heavens  declare  the  glory  of  God, 
And  the  firmament  showeth  his  handiwork. 

Day  unto  day  uttereth  speech, 

And  night  unto  night  showeth  knowledge. 

Their  line  is  gone  out  through  all  the  earth, 
And  their  words  to  the  end  of  the  world. 

— Ps.  xix.,  1,  2,  4. 

We  find  a  similar  arrangement  in  the  early  Greek  recita- 
tive poetry,  "which,"  says  Schmidt,  in  Chap.  XXVIII,  of  his 
"  Rhythmic  and  Metric  of  the  Classic  Languages,"  "  con- 
sists of  two  sentences  which  either  have  equal  lengths,  or 
the  second  of  which  is  catalectic  or  falling,"  i.  e.y  shorter  by 
a  single  syllable,  "  or  is  even  shorter  by  an  entire  measure." 


30      RH  V  THM  A  ND  HARMON  Y  IN  POETRY  A  ND  AT  U SIC. 

The  connection  between  this  form  of  parallelism  and 
the  artistic  method  of  the  same  name  in  the  chart  on  page 
3,  will  be  immediately  recognized.  Equally  so,  will  be 
the  fact  that,  from  the  use  of  expressions  of  approximate 
length,  the  tendency  to  repetition  will  lead,  as  in  the  case 
of  measures,  to  expressions  of  exactly  the  same  length. 
In  connection  with  this,  it  is  evident  that  the  allied  ten- 
dencies, already  mentioned,  toward  counteraction,  comple- 
ment, balance,  and  parallelism  have  a  legitimate  outlet  in 
that  wellnigh  universal  development  from  these  original 
parallelisms  which  is  found  in  the  couplet.  In  this,  two 
lines  of  exactly  the  same  length  end,  as  if  for  the  purpose 
of  emphasizing  this  fact,  with  the  same  sound.  Notice 
most  of  the  quotations  on  pages  31  and  32. 

Of  course  poets,  having  begun  to  construct  couplets  of 
one  length,  would  naturally,  for  various  reasons — to  satisfy 
a  desire  to  manifest  ingenuity,  or,  better,  to  express  certain 
sentiments, — come  to  construct  them  of  many  different 
lengths.  The  length  of  some,  too,  would  be  too  great  to  be 
pronounced  in  a  single  exhalation.  In  such  cases  a  reader 
would  have  to  stop  and  breathe  near  the  middle  of  the 
line.  This  fact  has  led,  in  verses  containing  three  or 
more  measures,  to  the  use  of  the  pause  that  is  termed  the 
caesura,  from  a  Latin  word  meaning  division.  Here  are 
lines  with  the  caesura  indicated  by  a  bar  : 

Brought  from  the  woods  |  the  honeysuckle  twines 
Around  the  porch  |  and  seems  in  that  trim  place 
A  plant  no  longer  wild  ;  |  the  cultured  rose 
There  blossoms,  strong  in  health,  |  and  will  be  soon 
Roof  high  ;  |  the  wild  pink  crowns  the  garden  wall, 
And  with  the  flowers  |  are  intermingled  stones 
Sparry  and  bright,  |  rough  scatterings  of  the  hills. 

— Excursion,  6  :    Wordsworth. 


DE  VEL  OPING  ME  A  S  URE  A  ND  VERSE.  3 1 

Exactly  where  the  caesura  pause  should  be,  depends 
largely  upon  the  sense.  It  need  not  necessarily  come  in 
the  middle  of  the  line,  e.  g.  ; 

— Death  his  dart 
Shook,  |  but  delayed  to  strike,  though  oft  invoked. 

— Paradise  Lost,  1 1  :  Milton. 

Have  found  him  guilty  of  high  treason.  |  Much 
He  spoke  and  learnedly. 

— Henry  VIII.,  ii.  ;  I  :   Shakespeare. 

To  indicate  the  number  of  the  measures  placed  in  a 
single  line,  the  Greeks  used  the  terms  monometer,  meaning 
a  line  containing  one  measure,  and  dimeter ;  trimeter,  tetra- 
meter, hexameter,  etc.,  meaning,  respectively,  a  line  of  two, 
three,  four,  and  six  measures.  Here  are  lines  of  each 
kind,  in  which  all  the  measures  are  full  or  regular.  For 
lines  of  the  same  kind  shortened  or  lengthened  by  a  half 
measure,  see  page  46.  The  first  example  under  each  head 
below  is  in  initial  measure,  and  the  second  in  terminal. 
Some  of  the  measures  are  double,  and  some  triple,  but,  of 
course,  could  be  either : 

Monometer : 

Trochaic,     Ringing, 
Swinging. 

— Beautiful  Snow  :  J.  W.  Watson. 


Anapaestic,     How  it  swells, 
How  it  dwells. 


The  Bells:  Poe. 


Dimeter  • 

Dactyl  and  trochee,       Melodies  thrilling 
Tenderly  filling 
Thee  with  their  thrilling. 

—  Thread  and  Song  :  J.   W.  Palmer. 


32      RHYTHM  AND  HARMONY  IN  POETR  Y  AND  MUSIC. 

Iambic      At  thy  first  sound 

True  hearts  will  bound. 

—  The  Great  Bell  Roland :  R.  S.  Bowker. 

Trimeter  : 

Trochaic,     Go  where  glory  waits  thee, 
But  when  fame  elates  thee. 

— Go  Where  Glory  Waits    Thee  .    T.  Moore. 

Iambic,     Bell  never  yet  was  hung 

Between  whose  lips  there  swung 
So  brave  and  true  a  tongue. 

—  The  Great  Bell  Roland  :  R.  S.  Bowker. 

Tetrameter : 

Trochaic,     Day  of  wrath,  that  day  of  burning, 
All  shall  melt  to  ashes  turning, 
All  foretold  by  seers  discerning. 

— Dies  Irae  :  tr.  by  A .  Coles. 

Iambic,       I  hate  to  learn  the  ebb  of  time 

From  yon  dull  steeple's  drowsy  chime. 

— Lay  of  the  Imprisoned  Huntsman  :  Sir  W.  Scott. 

Pentameter : 

Trochaic,     Dead  and  gone  the  days  we  had  together. 

— Past  Days  :  Swinburne. 

Iambic,     The  curfew  tolls  the  knell  of  parting  day. 
The  lowing  herd  winds  slowly  o'er  the  lea. 

— Elegy  in  a  Country  Churchyard  :  Gray. 

Hexameter : 

Dactyls  and  Spondees,     Simply  and  solemnly  now  proceeded  the  Christian 
service, 
Singing  and  prayer  and  at  last  an  ardent  discourse 
from  the  old  man. 

— Children  of  the  Last  Supper  :  Longfellow. 


DEVELOPING  MEASURE   AND    VERSE.  33 

Iambic,     Flies  o'er  th'  unbending  corn,  and  skims  along  the  main. 

— Essay  on  Criticism  :  Pope. 

Heptameter  : 
Trochaic,     Ours  the  lightning  was  that  cleared  the  north  and  lit  the 
nations. 

— Athens,  an  Ode  :  Swinburne. 

Iambic,     The    stranger    hath    thy   bridle-rein, — thy    master   hath 
his  gold, — 
Fleet-limbed  and  beautiful,   farewell  ;  thou  'rt  sold,  my 
steed,  thou  'rt  sold. 

—  The  Arab  to  His  Favorite  Steed  :  C.  E.  Norton. 


Octometer  : 
Trochaic,     They  are  dying,  they  are  dying,  where  the  golden  corn 
is  growing  ; 
They  are  dying,   they  are  dying,   where  the  crowded 
herds  are  lowing. 

— Ireland  :  D.  F.  MacCarthy. 

The  line  of  four  terminal  measures,  or  the  iambic  tetra- 
meter, is  supposed  to  be  the  easiest  of  English  measures 
in  which  to  write,  and  the  use  of  it  is  very  general,  as,  for 
instance,  in  Byron's  "  Mazeppa,"  and  in  Scott's  "  Mar- 
mion  "  and  "  Lady  of  the  Lake." 

The  line  of  five  terminal  measures,  or  the  iambic  pen- 
tameter, is  sometimes  called  the  heroic  measure,  partly 
because  of  the  supposed  dignity  and  gravity  of  its  effect, 
and  partly  because  poets  have  become  accustomed  to 
use  it  in  long  compositions,  as,  for  instance,  in  Dryden's 
and  Pope's  translations  from  Homer.  In  these  poems 
the  measure  includes  rhymes,  but  in  a  majority  of  cases  it 
does  not.  It  is  the  only  form  of  English  verse,  too,  in 
which  rhymes  are  often  omitted,  for  which  reason  when  we 


34      RHYTHM  AND  HARMONY  IN  POE TR  Y  AND  MUSIC. 

speak  of  English  blank  verse  we  usually  mean,  unless 
the  phrase  is  further  qualified,  pentameter  blank  verse. 
Among  the  Greeks  and  Romans  the  effects  produced 
by  our  blank  pentameter  verse  were  produced  by  an 
hexameter  invariably  containing  two  different  kinds  of 
measures — one  the  spondee  composed  of  two  syllables 
long  in  quantity ;  and  the  other  the  dactyl,  composed 
of  one  long  syllable  followed  by  two  short  ones.  As 
stated  in  "  Poetry  as  a  Representative  Art/'  most  of 
the  English  imitators  of  this  metre  fail  to  reproduce  its 
easy  flow  of  movement.  One  reason  for  this  is  that 
our  language,  largely  because  it  lacks  the  grammatical 
terminations  of  the  classic  tongues,  contains  fewer  short 
syllables  then  they  ;  and,  in  the  place  of  the  only  foot  of 
three  syllables  allowed  in  their  hexameter — the  dactyl, 
containing  one  long  and  two  short  syllables — our  poets 
often  used  more  than  one  long  syllable.  Another  reason 
is  that  notwithstanding  the  poverty  of  our  language  in 
short  syllables,  many  seem  to  think  that  the  hexameter 
necessarily  requires  a  large  number  of  dactyls.  But  Greek 
and  Latin  lines  are  frequent,  containing  few  of  them,  e.g. : 

dprvjuevoS  7}v  re  ipvxr/r  k<xI  vo6rov  eraipoov. — Homer. 

I I I I-     -    «    I 

1111      inter  sese        magna     vi  brachia      tollunt —  Virgil. 

Both  the  causes  mentioned  serve  to  make  our  English 
hexameters  slow  and  heavy.  Besides  this,  most  of  those 
who  write  them,  misled  by  the  notion  that  they  must 
crowd  as  many  syllables  as  possible  into  their  lines,  are 
tempted  to  use  too  many  words,  and  thus  to  violate 
another    principle    not    of  poetry  only,   but    of  rhetoric. 


DE  VEL  OPING  ME  A  S  URE  A  ND  VERSE.  3  5 

Take    the    following,    for    instance,    from    Longfellow's 
"Children    of  the    Lord's    Supper": 

Weeping  he  spake  in  these  words  :    and  now  at  the  beck  of  the  old  man, 
Knee  against  knee,  they  knitted  a  wreath  round  the  altar's  enclosure. 
Kneeling  he  read  them  the  prayers  of  the  consecration,  and  softly, 
With  him  the  children  read  ;  at  the  close,  with  tremulous  accents, 
Asked  he  the  peace  of  heaven,  a  benediction  upon  them. 

An  English  verse  representing  accurately — what  is  all 
that  is  worth  representing — the  movement  of  the  classic 
hexameter,  would  read  more  like  this,  which,  itself,  too^ 
would  read  better,  did  it  contain  fewer  dactyls  ;  but  to 
show  the  possibilities  of  our  verse  these  have  been  inten- 
tionally crowded  into  it : 

Weeping  he  told  them  this,  and  they,  at  the  villager's  bidding, 

Knitting  with  knee  to  knee  a  wreath  at  the  altar's  railing, 

Knelt  as  he  softly  led  in  the  prayer  of  the  consecration. 

In  it  the  children  joined,  until  in  a  tremulous  accent 

Closing  the  prayer  he  had  asked  for  the  Lord's  benediction  upon  them. 

This  passage  from  Longfellow  is  a  typical  specimen  of 
what  is  called  English  hexameter.  Here  is  another  (not 
so  good),  from  Frothingham's  translation — in  many  re- 
spects an  admirable  one — of  Goethe's  u  Hermann  and 
Dorothea." 

Thitherward  up  the  new  street  as  I  hasted,  a  stout-timbered  wagon 
Drawn  by  two  oxen  I  saw,  of  that  region  the  largest  and  strongest, 
While  with  vigorous  step  a  maiden  was  walking  beside  them  ; 
And,  a  long  staff  in  her  hand,  the  two  powerful  creatures  was  guiding, 
Urging  them  now,  now  holding  them  back,  with  skill  did  she  drive  them. 

Not  until  such  lines  have  been  reduced  to  a  form  more 
like  the  following,  can  we  be  prepared  to  debate  whether 
or  not  the  effects  of  the  classic  hexameter  can  be  repro- 


36      RH  YTHM  AND  HARMON  Y  IN  FOE  TR  V  AND  M  USIC. 

duced  in  English.  Those,  too,  who  choose  to  compare 
these  lines  with  the  original,  will  find  this  translation  more 
literal  than  the  last. 

Now  my  eyes,  as  I  made  my  way  along  the  new  street  there, 
Happened  to  light  on  a  cart  with  a  frame  of  the  heaviest  timber, 
Drawn  by  a  pair  of  steers  of  the  largest  breed  and  stoutest. 
By  their  side  was  a  maid,  and  with  vigorous  gait  was  walking, 
Waving  a  staff  in  her  hand,  and  guiding  the  strong  pair  onward. 
Urging  or  holding  them  in,  right  skilfully  did  she  drive  them. 

In  these  last  lines,  there  are  more  spondaic  verses — 
verses,  that  is,  in  which  the  fifth  foot  contains  two  sylla- 
bles— than  were  often  used  in  the  classic  hexameters. 
But  this  fact  does  not  change  the  general  effect  of  the 
movement.  Matthew  Arnold  says  of  the  following,  that, 
11  it  is  the  one  version  of  any  part  of  the  Iliad  which  in 
some  degree  reproduces  for  me  the  original  effect  of 
Homer."  It  is  a  translation  from  the  third  book  made 
by  Dr.   Hawtrey  of  Eton  College : 

Clearly  the  rest  I  beheld  of  the  dark-eyed  sons  of  Achaia, 

Known  to  me  well  are  the  faces  of  all ;  their  names  I  remember. 

Two,  two  only  remain,  whom  I  see  not  among  the  commanders, — 

Castor  fleet  in  the  car, — Polydeukes  brave  with  the  cestus, — 

Own  dear  brethren  of  mine, — one  parent  loved  us  as  infants. 

Are  they  not  here  in  the  host,  from  the  shores  of  loved  Lacedsemon  ? 

Or  though  they  came  with  the  rest  in  ships  that  bound  through  the  waters, 

Dare  they  not  enter  the  fight,  or  stand  in  the  council  of  heroes, 

All  for  fear  of  the  shame,  and  the  taunts  my  crime  has  awakened  ? 

The  line  of  six  terminal  measures,  or  the  iambic  hex- 
termeter,  is  called  the  Alexandrine  from  a  poem  on 
Alexander  the  Great  in  which  it  is  said  to  have  been  used. 
As  a  rule,  it  is  only  employed  in  odes  in  alternation  with 
two  lines  which  are  trimeters  (see  page  56)  and  at  the 
ends  of   the    Spenserian   stanzas  (see  page  69),    but    in 


DEVELOPING  MEASURE  AND  VERSE.  S7 

order  to  impart  additional  importance  or  dignity,  it  is 
occasionally  introduced  into  other  poems,  most  of  the 
lines  of  which,  like  those  of  the  Spenserian  stanza  are 
iambic  pentameters,  e.  g. : 

Their  fury  falls  ;  he  skims  the  liquid  plains, 
High  on  his  chariot,  and  with  loosened  reins, 
Majestic  moves  along,  and  awful  peace  maintains. 

—  Translation  of  the  sEneid,  I  :  Dryden. 

In  this  chapter  we  have  noticed  how  the  general  prin- 
ciples underlying  rhythm  develop  into  formal  systems  of 
metre  and  versification, — into  measures  containing  just  so 
many  syllables,  and  into  lines  containing  just  so  many 
measures.  In  the  remaining  chapters  devoted  to  this 
subject,  we  shall  find  nature  and  the  variety  characteriz- 
ing it  gradually  asserting  themselves,  more  and  more, 
until  these  formal  systems  are  made,  through  artistic 
methods,  to  produce  effects  corresponding  to  those  which 
were  shown  in  Chapter  II.  to  be  due  to  merely  natural 
methods  of  applying  the  underlying  rhythmic  principles. 
In  other  words,  we  shall  find  here  a  noteworthy  illustration 
of  the  fact,  often  exemplified,  that  the  last  result  reached 
through  artistic  methods  is  not  essentially  different  from 
that  which  in  certain  circumstances  antedates  any  study 
of  art  whatever. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

ART-METHODS    AS     DEVELOPING    VARIETY    IN    MEASURE 
AND   LINE. 


Natural  Conditions  Necessitating  Variety — Two  Ways  of  Introducing  this 
into  Measures — By  Changing  the  Number  of  Syllables  in  the  Measures 
and  Lines — Examples — By  Omitting  Syllables  Necessary  to  a  Com- 
plete Foot — Necessity  of  Reading  Poetry  in  a  Way  Analogous  to  Ren- 
dering Words  in  Music — Unused  Possibility  in  English  Blank  Verse 
— Suggestions  of  it — An  Example  of  it  and  a  Criticism — Omitting  Syl- 
lables at  the  Ends  of  Lines — Adding  them  in  Rhymed  Lines — In  Blank 
Verse — Feminine  and  Double  Endings  of  Lines — Examples  of  Regu- 
larly Metrical  Lines  with  Syllables  Omitted  and  Added — Changing  the 
Numbers  or  the  Places  of  Accents  in  the  Lines — In  Rhyming  Verses — 
In  Blank  Verse — Example  of  Greater  Regularity — Accent  and  its  Ab- 
sence in  the  Final  Foot :  End-stopped  Lines — Run-on  Lines :  Weak 
and  Light  Endings — Forms  of  Broken  Blank  Verse — Shakespeare's  Use 
of  Run-on  Lines. 


THE  conditions  of  natural  speech  are  such  that  it  is 
not  possible,  even  if  desirable,  to  arrange  words  so 
as  to  produce  effects  of  unity  without  those  of  variety ; 
or  of  comparison  by  the  way  of  exact  repetition  (see  page  3) 
without  those  of  alteration,  and  even  of  more  alteration 
than  is  needed  to  secure  that  form  of  counteraction,  com- 
plement, and  balance  which  we  find,  as  has  been  intimated, 
in  the  alternation  between  the  accented  and  unaccented 
syllables  of  the  measure,  or  between  lines  of  different 
lengths,  or  rhymes,  as  in  the  following,  e.  g. : 

38 


DE  VEL  OPING  VA  RIE  TY  IN  ME  A  S  URE  A  ND  LINE.      39 

Two  barks  met  on  the  deep  mid-sea, 

When  calms  had  stilled  the  tide  ; 
A  few  bright  days  of  summer  glee, 

There  found  them  side  by  side. 

—  The  Meeting  of  the  Ships  :  Felicia  Hemans 

Of  introducing  variety  into  the  measures  there  are  two 
principal  ways  :  first,  by  changing  the  number  of  unac- 
cented syllables  or  the  kinds  of  feet  in  the  line ;  and 
second,  by  changing  the  number  of  accents  or  the  places 
of  the  accents  in  the  line.  In  both  cases,  the  line  is  uttered 
in  the  same  relative  time ;  and  this  fact  constitutes  the 
basis  of  unity.  In  addition  to  this,  in  the  first  case,  each 
foot  is  uttered  in  the  same  time  ;  and,  in  the  second  case, 
each  line  usually  contains  the  same  number  of  syllables. 

The  first  method  secures  through  a  slightly  different 
process  the  same  result  which  we  have  already  noticed  as 
a  development  of  tendencies  preceding  the  conscious 
formation  of  any  measures  whatever.  Notice  how  the 
few  lines  in  the  two  quotations  following  contain  alter- 
ations sufficient  to  introduce  almost  every  one  of  the 
different  measures  that  were  mentioned  on  pages  27  and 
28.  The  names  of  measures  printed  opposite  each  line, 
refer  to  only  the  main  measures  in  it,  or  to  some  one 
measure  especially  worthy  of  attention. 

Initial  There  she  sees  a  damsel  bright, 

Initial  Triple        Dressed  in  a  silken  robe  of  white. 
Terminal  Triple  There  is  not  wind  enough  in  the  air 
Terminal  To  move  away  the  ringlet  curl 

Terminal  Triple  From  the  lovely  lady's  cheek. 

There  is  not  wind  enough  to  twirl 
Terminal  Triple  The  one  red  leaf,  the  last  of  its  clan, 
Median  Triple       That  dances  as  often  as  dance  it  can  ; 
Initial  Triple        Hanging  so  light,  and  hanging  so  high, 
Terminal  Triple  On  the  topmost  twig  that  looks  up  at  the  sky. 

— Cristabel :    Coleridge 


40      RH  YTHM  AND  HARMON  Y  IN  POE  TR  Y  AND  MUSIC. 

The  poets  contemporaneous  with  Coleridge,  and  imme- 
diately preceding  him,  were  too  much  in  bondage  to  the 
supposed  requirements  of  the  classic  metres  to  venture 
upon  such  deviations  from  them  as  are  in  this  quotation. 
But  long  before  his  time,  older  poets  had  composed  in 
the  same  way.     Look  at  this  : 

Terminal  And  let  some  strange  mysterious  dream 

Initial  Triple  Wave  at  his  wings  in  airy  stream 

Terminal  Of  lively  portraiture  displayed 

Initial  Softly  on  my  eyelids  laid. 

Initial  Triple  And  as  I  wake  sweet  music  breathe 

Terminal  Above,  about  or  underneath, 

Initial  Triple  Sent  by  some  spirit  to  mortals  good, 

Terminal  Triple  Or  the  unseen  genius  of  the  wood. 

— /  Penseroso  :  Milton. 

Still  greater  variety  is  sometimes  produced,  as  in  the 
"  Break,  break,  break  "  of  Tennyson  (see  page  20),  by 
omitting  some  of  the  syllables  in  a  line  that  apparently 
are  necessary  in  order  to  render  even  the  shortest  foot 
complete.  The  reason  why  they  can  be  omitted  is  because 
if  the  sense  be  such  that  a  word  must  be  uttered  slowly, 
then,  even  though  it  contain  but  a  single  syllable,  it  may 
be  given  the  same  time  as  a  foot  containing  two  or  three 
syllables.  To  illustrate  what  is  meant,  let  us  use  musical 
notation.  Most  of  us  know  that  three  quarter  notes  fflf 
receive  the  same  time  as  one  half  note  followed  by  a  quar- 
ter note,  thus,  ^f ,  or  by  a  dot,  thus  f' ;  or  by  a  quarter 
rest,  thus,  p ,  and  that  two  eighth  notes  ££  receive  the 
same  time  as  one  quarter  note,  |*.  Now  suppose  that, 
adopting  the  method  of  music,  we  say  that  the  metre  of 
the  following  is  composed  in  three-quarter  time  ;  in  other 
words,  that  there  are  three  quarter  notes  in  each  measure. 
Then  the  durations  of  the  syllables — we  are  not  now 
dealing  with  their  accents — may  be  indicated  thus : 


VARIETY  IN  MEASURE  AND  LINE. 


41 


r  r 

My      or 

r  r 

My      pas 

r  r 


My    bed 

r  r 

My   lamp 


na  -  merits 

r  2  r 

time  is 

r 

cold 


r  f 

an 

r 


are     arms, 


2  f 


in  war, 

2  r  r  r  r 

up  -  on  the  wold, 

2  r 


7^  Wandering  Knights  Song  :  Lock  hart. 


r  r    z  z  r    rr    z c  r 


The  world 


may    go  round, 


r  r    r  r 


But 


1 


CEn    milk 

2  r 

Fill 

r  r 

can     milk 


The  world 

r  c  r 

and    mar  -  ry, 

2  r 

pail, 

r  c  r 

and     mar  •  ry. 


may  stand  still, 


The  Milkmaid' s  Song  :   Sidney  D obeli 


Even  when  all  the  syllables  needed  in  order  to  consti- 
tute a  conventional  poetic  foot  are  present,  a  poem,  that 
its  meaning  may  be  clear,  requires  to  be  read  in  a  way 
analogous  to  that  in  which  its  words  could  be  rendered 
if  set  to  music.  In  the  following,  notice  the  difference  in 
effect  between  emphasizing  or  prolonging  every  alternate 
syllable  as  the  metre  requires,  and  slighting  or  giving  less 
time  to  such  syllables  as  follow  the  musical  rests. 

At  I  midnight,  |  *f-  in  his  |  guarded  |  tent,  y-  \  *f 

The  I  Turk  ^  |  J-  was  |  dreaming  |  *f-  of  the  |  hour,  ^  |  *f- 

When  I  Greece,  7^  |  J-  her  |  knee  in  |  suppliance  |  bent,  *f-  \  *f 
Should  J  tremble  |  *  at  his  |  power  ;  y-  \  J- 


42      RHYTHM  AND  HARMON Y  IN  POE TR  Y  A ND  M USIC. 

In  |  dreams,  "  \  J-  through  |  camp  and  |  court,  he  |  bore  J-  \  J- 
The  |  trophies  |  7*  of  a  |  conque  |  ror.  7*  |  *f- 

In  |  dreams,  his  |  song  of  |  triumph  |  heard  ;  J-  \  %■ 
Then  |  *f  *f  |  wore  his  |  monarch's  |  signet  |  ring,  |  7*  |  7* 
Then  j    %■  "  |  press'd  that  |  monarch's  |  throne,  J-  |  ^  a  |  King  ;  7*  |  T 
As  I  wild  his  |  thoughts,  %  \  J-  and  |  gay  of  |  wing,  %■  |  f 

As  I  Eden's  |  garden  |  bird.  ^  |  J- 
At  I  midnight,  |  J-  in  the  \  forest-  |  shades,  7*  |  ^ 

Boz-  I  zaris  |  ranged  his  |  Suliote  |  band,  J-  |  ^ 
True  I  f  as  the  |  steel  f  \  f  of  |  their  f  |  tried  f  |  blades,  ?  |  £ 

Heroes  |  7*  in  |  heart  7*  |  %  and  |  hand  ;  7*  |  J- 
There  |  ^  had  the  1  Persian's  |  thousands  |  stood,  7*  |  *f- 
There  j  ^  had  the  |  glad  J-  |  earth  ^  |  drunk  their  |  blood  J-  |  J- 

On  I  old  Pla-  |  tasa's  |  day  :  £  |  ^ 
And  I  now  ^  |  *  there  |  breathed  that  |  haunted  |  air  7*  |  7* 
The  I  sons  J-  |  7*  of  |  sires  who  |  conquered  |  there,  y-  \  J- 
With  I  arm  to  |  strike  J-  |  J-  and  |  soul  to  |  dare,  J-  |  f 

As  I  quick  ^  I  ^  as  I  far  ^  j  t*  as  I  they.     7* 

— Marco  Bozzaris  :  Fitz-Greene  Halleck. 


All  the  examples  of  changes  in  metre  given  in  the  para- 
graphs preceding  the  last,  were  taken  from  rhyming  verse. 
Occasionally  in  pentameter  blank  verse,  too,  we  find  an 
extra  unaccented  syllable  added  to  a  terminal  or  iambic 
foot,  as  in  the  following : 

And  chiefly  thou  oh  Spirit  that  dost  prefer 
Before  all  temples  the  upright  heart  and  pure. 

— Par.  Lost,  1  :  Milton, 

Of  rebel  angels,  by  whose  aid  aspiring 
To  set  himself  in  glory  above  his  peers. 

— Idem. 

Our  English  writers  of  blank  verse,  however,  have  rec- 
ognized to  only  a  slight  extent  the  possibilities  of  metre 
constructed  according  to  the  principles  exemplified  in  the 
above  quotations  from  Coleridge,  Milton,  Lockhart,  and 


VARIETY  IN  MEASURE  AND  LINE.  43 

Dobell.  Yet  this  form  would  seem  to  be  particularly 
adapted  to  the  requirements  of  the  drama,  especially  of 
the  melodrama  and  comedy.  Notice  the  general  effect 
of  the  following,  when  arranged  in  lines  each  containing 
three  accents. 

Or  ever 
The  silver  cord  be  loosed, 
Or  the  golden  bowl  be  broken  ; 
Or  the  pitcher  be  broken  at  the  fountain, 
Or  the  wheel  broken  at  the  cistern. 

— Ecclesiastes,  xii.  ;  6. 

Here,  converted  from  some  of  Shakespeare's  prose  in 
"  Henry  V.,"  iii. ;  6,  are  lines  containing  four  accents : 

Bid  him  therefore  consider  of  his  ransom  ; 

Which  must  proportion  the  losses  we  have  borne  ; 

The  subjects  we  have  lost,  the  disgrace  we  have  digested  ; 

Which  in  weight  to  re-answer  his  pettiness  would  bow  under. 

And  here,  from  the  prose  of  Sir  Walter  Scott's  "  Kenil- 
worth,"  Part  II.,  Chapter  XIV.,  is  a  consecutive  conversa- 
tion containing  lines  of  three  accents  : 

Countess  of  Leicester.     Good  friend,  I  pray  thee  begone 
And  leave  me. 

Mike  Lambourne.  And  so  I  will,  pretty  one, 

When  we  are  tired  of  each  other's 
Company — not  a  jot  sooner. 
Nay,  scream  away  if  you  like  it. 
I  have  heard  the  sea  at  the  loudest, 
And  I  mind  a  squalling  woman 
No  more  than  a  miauling  kitten — 
Damn  me,  I  have  heard  fifty 
Or  a  hundred  screaming  at  once 
When  there  was  a  town  stormed. 


44      RHYTHM  AND  HARMON  Y  IN  POE TR  Y  AND  MUSIC. 

Blank  verse  of  this  kind,  not  suggested  by  the  author 
for  the  first  time  in  this  volume,  seems  to  have  recom- 
mended itself  to  Robert  Bridges  also,  who  has  carried  out 
the  idea  practically  in  what  he  describes  as  "  a  line  of  six 
stresses,  written  according  to  the  rules  of  English  rhythm," 
in  which  "  a  natural  emphasizing  of  the  sense  gives  the 
rhythm  " : 

At  last,  Chremes,  it  came  to  this  :  This  poor  young  fellow, 
Continually  hearing  the  same  thing  put  so  strongly  to  him, 
Gave  in  ;  he  thought  my  age  and  due  regard  for  his  welfare 
Were  likely  to  show  him  a  wiser  and  a  more  prudent  course. 

—  The  Feast  of  Bacchus  :  R.  Bridges. 

This  passage  would  have  been  more  successful,  per- 
haps, had  both  the  measures  and  the  lines  been  shorter. 
When  as  many  as  four  syllables  come  between  those  that 
are  accented — an  arrangement  which  is  never  allowable 
in  ordinary  verse — the  ear  loses  the  sense  of  form.  More- 
over, for  reasons  brought  out  in  Chapters  IV.  and  X.  of 
"  Poetry  as  a  Representative  Art,"  a  long  line,  especially 
if  containing  long  measures,  usually  suggests  slowness  of 
movement,  which  is  not  in  congruity  with  the  subject 
here  presented. 

The  changing  of  the  number  of  the  syllables  in  the  feet 
is  very  common  at  the  ends  of  lines  that  rhyme,  in  which 
case,  as  will  be  noticed,  it  involves  also  a  change  in  the 
length  of  the  line.  In  the  following  lines,  all  but  the 
accented  syllable  is  omitted  from  the  final  measure.  As 
a  result,  one  line  ends  with  an  accent,  and  the  next  line 
begins  with  one.  In  reading,  therefore,  as  much  time  is 
given  to  each  single  rhyming  syllable  as  to  any  other  two 
syllables.  Of  course,  this  fact  serves  to  emphasize  the 
rhyme,  and,  by  doing  so,  to  increase  the  effect  of  the  verse- 
grouping,  e.  g.  : 


VARIETY  IN  MEASURE  AND  LINE.  45 

Hope  that  blessed  me  ;  bliss  that  crowned 
Love  that  left  me  with  a  wound, 
Life  itself,  that  turned  around. 

— Bertha  in  the  Lane  :  £.  B.  Browning. 

The  same  effect  occurs  at  the  end  of  the  second  line  of 
the  following  : 

Lives  of  great  men  all  remind  us 

We  can  make  our  lives  sublime, 
And  departing,  leave  behind  us 

Footprints  on  the  sands  of  time. 

— Psalm  of  Life  :  Longfellow. 

When  the  lines  do  not  begin  with  accents,  an  unac- 
cented, in  place  of  an  accented,  final  syllable,  has  the  ef- 
fect of  emphasizing  the  rhyme  and  the  verse-form  still 
more.  This  is  because  of  the  more  evident  pause  in  rhythm 
which  the  reading  necessitates.  In  these  cases,  we  might 
say  that  the  change  was  produced  by  adding  a  syllable 
instead  of  omitting  it,  e.  g.  : 

So  strength  first  made  a  way. 
Then  beauty  flowed,  then  wisdom,  honor,  pleasure  ; 
When  almost  all  was  out,  God  made  a  stay, 
Perceiving  that  alone  of  all  his  treasure, 

Rest  in  the  bottom  lay. 

—  The  Gifts  of  God  :  Geo.  Herbert. 

Altho'  I  enter  not, 

Yet  round  about  the  spot 

Ofttimes  I  hover  : 
And  near  the  sacred  gate 
With  longing  eyes  I  wait 

Expectant  of  her. 

— At  the  Church  Gate  :    Thackeray. 

As  a  rule,  pentameter  blank  verse  ends  with  an  ac- 
cented syllable,  but  almost  every  long  quotation    from 


46      RHYTHM  AND  HARMON  Y  IN  POE TR  Y  AND  MUSIC. 

verse  of  this  character  will  reveal  one  or  more  lines  like 
the  following  : 

I  trouble  thee  too  much,  but  thou  art  willing. 

— Julius  Ccesar,  iv.,  3  :    Shakespeare. 

And  here  is  a  line  ending  with  three  syllables : 

Not  to  relent  is  beastly,  savage,  devilish. 

— Richard  III,  i.,  4  :    Idem. 

In  blank  verse,  endings  like  the  above,  in  which  the 
extra  syllables  belong  to  the  same  word  as  the  syllable  on 
which  the  accent  falls,  are  termed  feminine.  If  the  same 
effect  be  produced  by  adding  a  new  word  to  the  line,  the 
ending  is  termed  double.  Notice  the  last  line  of  the  fol- 
lowing.    The  first  two  endings  are  termed  masculine. 

Such  harmony  is  in  immortal  souls  : 
But  whilst  this  muddy  vesture  of  decay 
Doth  grossly  close  us  in  we  cannot  hear  it. 

— Merchant  of  Venice,  v.,  I  :  Idem. 

We  have  already,  on  page  31,  noticed  the  regular  forms 
of  monometers,  dimeters,  trimeters,  etc.  Let  us  now 
notice  the  forms  that  they  assume  as  influenced  by 
changes  in  the  number  of  syllables  in  their  final  feet. 

Monometer,  less  one  unaccented  syllable  : 

Bells. 


The  Bells  :  Poe. 


Monometer,  with  added  unaccented  syllables  : 


Adversity     .     . 
With  misery. 
—  The  Deceived  lover  :    Sir  Thomas  Wyatt. 


VARIETY  IN  MEASURE  AND  LINE.  47 

Dimeter,  less  unaccented  syllables  : 

Drawing  my  breath, 
Looking  for  death. 

—  The  Deceived  Lover  :  Sir  T.   Wyatt. 

Dimeter,  with  one  added  unaccented  syllable : 

A  baby  was  sleeping, 
Its  mother  was  weeping. 

—  The  Angel's  Whisper  :    Samuel  Lover. 

Trimeter,  less  unaccented  syllables  : 

Go  to  thy  rest,  fair  child. 
Go  to  thy  dreamless  bed. 

—  Go  to  Thy  Rest  :   Anon. 

Trimeter,  with  one  added  unaccented  syllable  : 

Between  the  dark  and  the  daylight 
When  night  is  beginning  to  lower. 

—  The  Children's  Hour  :   Longfellow. 

Tetrameter,  less  one  unaccented  syllable  : 

None  that  I  have  named  as  yet 
Are  as  good  as  Margaret. 

— Choosing  a  Name  :   Mary   Lamb. 

Tetrameter,  with  one  added  unaccented  syllable  : 

A  little  in  the  doorway  sitting 

The  mother  plied  her  busy  knitting. 

— A  Mother's  Love  :  T.  Burbidge. 

Pentameter,  less  one  unaccented  syllable  : 

Lord  of  light,  whose  shrine  no  hands  destroy. 

— Nine  Years  Old  :    Swinburne. 

Pentameter,  with  one  added  unaccented  syllable  : 

Say  one  soft  word,  and  let  us  part  forgiven. 

—  The  Princess  :  Tennyson. 


48     RH Y THM  A ND  HA RM ONY  IN  POE TR  V  A ND  M USIC. 

Hexameter,  less  one  unaccented  syllable  : 

High  beyond  the  granite  portal  arched  across. 

— A  Ballad  of  Sark  :   Swinburne. 

Hexameter,  with  an  added  unaccented  syllable  : 

Shall  the  wages  of  righteous-doing  be  less  than  the  promise  given  ? 
— Hell  and  Heaven  :   Sir  Edwin  Arnold. 


Heptameter,  less  one  unaccented  syllable  : 

Far  and  wide  the  waste  and  ravin  of  their  rule  proclaim 
Change  alone  the  changeless  lord  of  things,  alone  the  same. 

—  The  Mill  Garden  :    Swinburne, 


Heptameter,  with  one  added  unaccented  syllable  : 

We  awake  with  a  sense  of  a  sunrise  that  is  not  a  gift  of  the  sundawn's 

giving, 
And  a  voice  that  salutes  us  is  sweeter  than  all  sounds  else  in  the  world 

of  the  living. 

— Sunrise  :    Swinburne. 

Octometer,  less  one  unaccented  syllable  : 

Comrades,  leave  me  here  a  little  while,  as  yet  't  is  early  morn, 
Leave  me  here,  and  when  you  want  me  sound  upon  the  bugle  horn. 

— Lock  si ey  Hall  :    Tennyson. 

The  second  way  of  introducing  variety  into  the  rhythm 
is  by  changing  the  accents, — either  their  numbers  in  the 
lines,  or  their  places,  while  preserving  as  a  basis  of  unity  the 
same  relative  time  in  which  the  lines  are  uttered,  or  the 
same  number  of  syllables  of  which  they  are  composed. 
Sometimes,  though  not  often,  this  method  is  used  in 
rhymed  lines,  as  in  the  following.  Notice  also  how  the 
effect  of  variety  in  the  rhythm  here  is  increased  by  the 
pauses  in  the  reading  necessitated  by  the  sense : 


VARIETY  IN  MEASURE  AND  LINE.  49 

The  sky  is  changed — and  such  a  change.     O  night 
And  storm  and  darkness,  ye  are  wondrous  strong, 
Yet  lovely  in  your  strength,  as  is  the  light 
Of  a  dark  eye  in  woman  !     Far  along 
From  peak  to  peak  the  rattling  crags  among 
Leaps  the  live  thunder.     Not  from  one  lone  cloud 
But  every  mountain  now  hath  found  a  tongue, 
And  Jura  answers,  through  her  misty  shroud, 
Back  to  the  joyous  Alps  who  call  to  her  aloud. 

— Childe  Harold  :  Byron. 

It  is  chiefly,  however,  in  blank  verse  that  we  find  this 
method  of  securing  variety.  Where,  as  in  this  next  quo- 
tation, as  also  in  the  sixth  line  of  the  last,  these  variations 
are  determined  by  the  thought,  and  the  rhythm  is  accom- 
modated to  the  requirements  of  sense  as  well  as  of  sound, 
we  have,  for  this  reason,  an  additional  excellence.  See 
"  Poetry  as  a  Representative  Art,"  Chap.  IV. 

Nine  times  the  space  that  measures  day  and  night 
To  mortal  men,  he  with  his  horrid  crew 
Lay  vanquished,  rolling  in  the  fiery  gulf, 
Confounded,  though  immortal  :  but  his  doom 
Reserved  him  to  more  wrath  :  for  now  the  thought 
Both  of  lost  happiness  and  lasting  pain 
Torments  him  :  round  he  throws  his  baleful  eyes 
That  witnessed  huge  affliction  and  dismay, 
Mixed  with  obdurate  pride  and  steadfast  hate  ; 
At  once  as  far  as  angels  ken  he  views 
The  dismal  situation  waste  and  wild  ; 
A  dungeon  hori'ible  on  all  sides  round, 
As  one  great  furnace,  flamed  ;  yet  from  those  flames 
No  light,  but  rather  darkness  visible 
Served  only  to  discover  sights  of  woe, 
Regions  of  sorrow,  doleful  shades  where  peace 
And  rest  can  never  dwell. 

— Paradise  Lost,  I  .*  Milton. 

Modern  poets,  as  a  rule,  do  not  indulge  in  as  much 
metrical  variety  of  this  sort  as  did  Milton.    Some,  indeed, 


50    RH  Y THM  AND  HARMON  Y  IN  POE  TR  Y  AND  MUSIC. 

cause  the  accents  to  fall  on  every  other  syllable  with 
absolute  regularity,  depending  for  variety  upon  only  the 
pauses  that  must  necessarily  be  made  in  order  to  bring 
out  the  sense.  It  cannot  be  denied  that  there  is  a  charm 
of  its  own  produced  by  such  a  style,  and  that  for  young 
poets  there  is  safety  in  it.  Only  a  great  master  of  rhythm 
like  Milton  could  violate  so  many  lesser  laws  and  yet 
fulfil  the  greater  ones.  As  a  good  example  of  a  more 
regular  style,  notice  the  following  : 

Above  the  garden's  glowing  blossom-belts, 

A  columned  entry  shone  and  marble  stairs, 

And  great  bronze  valves,  embossed  with  Tomyris 

And  what  she  did  to  Cyrus  after  fight, 

But  not  fast  barred  :  so  here  upon  the  flat 

All  that  long  morn  the  lists  were  hammered  up, 

And  all  that  morn  the  heralds,  to  and  fro, 

With  message  and  defiance  went  and  came. 

—  The  Princess  :  Tennyson. 

There  is  another  way  of  changing  the  number  of  the 
accents  or  the  places  of  the  accents  in  the  line.  It  is 
found  chiefly  among  dramatic  writings.  In  all  the  quota- 
tions in  blank  verse  that  have  been  used,  there  has  been 
an  accent,  as  well  as  a  pause  required  by  the  sense,  on  the 
final  foot,  as  in  this  : 


The  primal  duties  shine  aloft  like  stars. 

— Excursion  :    Wordsworth. 


A  line  ending  thus  is  called  technically  an  end-stopped  line. 
A  line,  on  the  contrary,  in  which  there  is  no  accent  on 
the  final  foot,  and  no  pause  required  there  by  the  sense, 
is  termed  a  run-on  line.  Notice  the  first  and  second  lines 
of  this : 


VARIETY  IN  MEASURE  AND  LINE.  5 1 

Since  what  I  am  to  say  must  be  but  that 

Which  contradicts  my  accusation,  and 

The  testimony  on  my  part  no  other 

But  what  comes  from  myself,  it  shall  scarce  boot  me. 

Winter's  Tale  :  iii.,  2  :  Shakespeare. 


Run-on  lines  closing  with  conjunctive  words,  like  and,  as, 
if,  nor,  with,  are  also  termed  weak-ending ;  and  those 
closing  with  words  like  since,  while,  though,  and  with 
pronouns  like  who,  which,  what,  and  with  auxiliaries  like 
am,  has,  is,  would,  are  termed  light-ending. 

In  Shakespeare  there  are  a  large  number  of  run-on 
lines,  especially  in  his  later  works.  It  seems  as  if,  instead 
of  being  regarded  as  forms  of  our  ordinary  pentameter 
blank  verse,  they  should  be  regarded  as  forms  of  broken 
blank  verse,  such  as  we  find  in  Goethe's  "  Faust."  This, 
in  reality,  is  what  they  are,  though,  in  the  English,  they 
are  not  divided  into  lines  and  printed  so  as  to  show  the 
fact.  Sidney  Lanier,  in  his  "  Science  of  English  Verse," 
divides  and  prints  the  following  lines  so  as  to  reveal  their 
rhythm.  As  one  object  of  all  division  of  poetry  into 
lines  is  to  reveal  rhythm,  it  might  seem  desirable  always 
to  print  such  verses  in  this  way.  It  is  to  be  argued 
against  this  course,  however,  that,  were  it  done,  the  prin- 
ciple of  putting  like  effects  with  like  would  not  be  carried 
out  as  applied  to  the  lengths  of  lines. 


Since  what  I  am  to  say 

Must  be  but  that  which  contradicts  my  accusation, 

And  the  testimony  on  my  part 

No  other  but  what  comes  from  myself 

It  shall  scarce  boot  me. 


Here  is  another  set  of  run-on  lines: 


52      RHYTHM  AND  HARMONY  IN  POETR  Y  AND  MUSIC. 

Thou  shalt  not  lack 
The  flower  that 's  like  thy  face,  pale  primrose,  nor 
The  azured  harebell  like  thy  veins,  no,  nor 
The  leaf  of  eglantine. 

—  Cimbeline,  iv.,  2:  Idem. 

This,  too,  might  be  arranged  thus : 

Thou  shalt  not  lack 
The  flower  that 's  like  thy  face,  pale  primrose, 
Nor  the  azured  harebell  like  thy  veins, 
No,  nor  the  leaf  of  eglantine. 

Shakespeare's  later  works,  as  contrasted  with  his  earlier 
ones,  show  more  maturity  of  thought,  and  in  places  more 
grandeur  of  style.  But  as  he  grew  older  he  did  not  rewrite 
and  rearrange  his  lines  as  carefully  as  previously.  Had  he 
done  so,  it  is  possible  that  he  would  have  removed  many  of 
these  run-on  lines.  In  themselves,  they  are  a  violation  of 
the  law  of  the  form  of  verse  in  which  he  was  writing ; 
and  there  is  page  after  page  of  his  poetry  proving  that  he 
could  have  produced  every  desirable  effect  in  rhythm 
without  resorting  to  them. 


CHAPTER  V. 

ART-METHODS    AS    DEVELOPING    STANZAS    AND    TYPICAL 
VERSE-FORMS. 

Rhythm  as  so  far  Explained — Necessity  in  Each  Poem  of  a  Standard  Meas- 
ure or  Line — Illustrating  the  Art-Methods  of  Principality,  Massing, 
Interspersion,  Complication — Examples — Tendency  to  Make  Long  Lines 
just  Double  the  Length  of  Short  lines — The  Couplet,  through  Compli- 
cation and  Continuity,  Passes  into  the  Stanza — Rhythm  as  Related  to 
the  Tunes  of  Verse,  and  Causing  Correspondences  between  Lines  of 
Verse  and  Lines  of  Vision — Rhythm  as  Involving  Consonance,  Disso- 
nance, Interchange,  and  Gradation — Abruptness,  Transition,  and 
Progress — Slow  and  Fast  Progress  as  Represented  in  Poetic  Rhythm — 
Rhythmic  Possibilities  of  Stanzas  of  Different  Forms — Stanzas  of  Three 
Lines — Four — Five — Six — Seven — Shorter  Chaucerian — Eight — Nine, 
the  Spenserian — Longer  Chaucerian — The  Sonnet — First  Type  of — Sec- 
ond— Third — French  Forms  of  Verse — Triolet — Rondel — Rondeau — 
Kyrielle  — Rondeau  Redouble — Ballade — Pantoum — Villanelle — Chain 
Verse — Sestina — Sicilian  Octave — Virelai — Chant  Royal — Ode — Comic 
Effects — Incongruity  between  Thought  and  Form — In  the  Form  only 
— In  Endings  of  Lines — In  Rhymes — In  Pauses. 

"C^ROM  what  has  been  said  thus  far,  it  will  be  perceived 
that  rhythm  is  an  effect  produced  by  a  consecutive 
series  of  sounds,  or  multiples  of  sounds,  which,  in  them- 
selves, may  be  varied  and  complex ;  but  each  series  of 
which  is  of  like  duration.  In  other  words,  it  is  a  result, 
as  is  everything  that  is  artistic,  of  grouping  according  to 
some  one  principle — to  that  of  time  in  this  case — the  like 
partial  effects  of  unlike  complex  wholes.  In  poetry,  as  we 
have  found,  like  divisions  of  time  are  measured  off  into 

53 


54      RHYTHM  AND  HARMON  Y  IN  POE TR  Y  AND  MUSIC. 

feet-  by  accents  upon  certain  syllables,  which  are  usually 
accompanied  in  the  same  group  by  other  syllables,  and 
into  lines  by  the  same  or  approximate  numbers  of  ac- 
cents. As  for  the  feet,  the  essential  matter  is  that,  in 
each  group,  the  syllables,  whether  one  or  many,  be  given 
exactly  the  same  amount  of  time.  So,  as  a  rule,  with 
lines.  To  read  rhythmically  verses  like  those  on  page  20, 
the  voice  needs  to  pause  a  little  longer  after  the  shorter 
lines  ;  doing  which,  it  will  make  them  appear  of  the  same 
length  as  the  longer  ones.  It  is  a  method  of  reading,  too, 
that  any  person  with  an  ear  for  rhythm  will  adopt  instinc- 
tively and  unconsciously. 

Notice  now  that,  in  case  measures  or  lines  be  varied  in 
character,  they  cannot  well  be  read  in  accordance  with  the 
requirements  of  rhythm,  unless  measures  and  lines  of 
some  one  character  predominate  to  a  sufficient  extent  to 
establish  a  standard  by  which  to  gauge  the  method  of 
reading  the  whole.  If,  for  instance,  a  line  be  intended  for 
the  time  appropriate  for  double  measures,  whose  two 
syllables  are  naturally  uttered  in  a  shorter  time  than  the 
three  of  triple  measures,  it  must  convey  a  suggestion  of 
this  fact  by  being  chiefly  composed  of  double  measures. 
Poe,  in  his  essay  on  "  The  Rationale  of  Verse,"  says  with 
reference  to  all  alterations  in  the  general  structure  of  the 
verse  :  "  The  rhythm,  designed,  should  be  commenced  and 
continued  without  variation,  until  the  ear  has  had  full 
time  to  comprehend  what  is  the  rhythm  " — a  statement 
which  he  illustrates  by  quoting  the  opening  of  a  poem 
by  C.  P.  Cranch,  viz.  : 

Many  are  the  thoughts  that  come  to  me 

In  my  lonely  musing, 
And  they  drift  so  strange  and  swift 

There  's  no  time  for  choosing. 


STANZAS  AND    TYPICAL    VERSE-FORMS.  55 

In  this,  many  is  treated  as  one  syllable,  and  are  and  the 
are  treated  as  second  and  third  syllables  in  a  triple  meas- 
ure,— a  method  of  treatment  that  would  answer  after  the 
prevailing  rhythm  had  been  suggested,  but  not  before  this. 
Evidently  in  Poe's  opinion  the  first  line  should  read 
somewhat  as  follows  : 

Many  thoughts,  they  come  to  me. 

The  general  truth  thus  indicated  reveals  the  necessity, 
in  connection  with  repetition  and  alteration,  for  that  de- 
velopment of  principality which  will  be  found,  in  the  chart 
on  page  3,  under  the  name  of  massing.  By  this  is  meant 
the  bringing  together  of  many  features  of  a  single  kind  so 
as,  through  the  accumulation  of  them,  to  create  a  single 
general  impression.  A  subordinate  departure  from  the 
regular  movement,  characterizing  series  of  measures  or 
lines,  evidently  involves  the  method  of  interspersion  (see 
page  3),  and,  in  case  there  be  much  departure  of  this  kind, 
it  is  evident  that  unity  can  only  be  preserved  by  causing 
the  features  manifesting  it  to  complement  or  balance  the 
principal  features  by  way  of  complication.  As  applied  to 
measures,  the  quotations  from  Coleridge  and  Milton  on 
pages  39  and  40  will  sufficiently  illustrate  this  method. 
As  applied  to  lines,  inasmuch  as  the  very  word  complica- 
tion means,  primarily,  a  folding  together  of  visible  lines, 
its  appropriateness  by  way  of  analogy  to  audible  verses  of 
different  structure  or  length  will  be  at  once  recognized. 
Here  are  triple  measures  in  one  line,  and,  in  the  next 
line,  alternating  with  it  are  only  double  measures  : 

Come  from  my  first,  ay  come. 

The  battle  dawn  is  nigh  : 
And  the  screaming  trump  and  the  thundering  drum 

Are  calling  thee  to  die. 

— Charades,  v.:   W.  M.  Praed. 


5  6      RH  Y  THM  A  ND  HA  KM  ON  Y  IN  POETRY  A  ND  M  USIC. 

Here  are   alternating   lines  of  different  lengths,  but  with 
the  same  measures  : 

Stop,  mortal.     Here  thy  brother  lies, — 

The  poet  of  the  poor. 
His  books  were  rivers,  woods,  and  skies, 

The  meadow  and  the  moor. 

— A  Poet's  Epitaph  :  Ebenezer  Elliott. 

And  here  the  endings  of  different  alternate  or  consecutive 
lines  give  them  different  general  effects  : 

Hail  to  the  chief  who  in  triumph  advances  ! 

Honored  and  blest  be  the  evergreen  Pine  ! 
Long  may  the  tree  in  his  banner  that  glances, 
Flourish  the  shelter  and  grace  of  our  line  ! 
Heaven  send  it  happy  dew, 
Earth  lend  it  sap  anew, 
Gayly  to  bourgeon,  and  broadly  to  grow, 
While  every  highland  glen 
Sends  our  shout  back  again, 
Roderigh  Vich  Alpine,  dhu,  ho  !  ieroe  ! 

— Song  of  Clan- Alpine  :  Sir  W.  Scott. 

Notice,  however,  wherever  lines  of  different  lengths  are 
thus  used  together,  the  almost  invariable  tendency  that 
there  is  to  make  the  shorter  lines  exactly  one  half  the 
length  of  the  longer  lines.  This  is,  evidently,  only  an- 
other manifestation  of  that  which,  according  to  the  experi- 
ments in  rhythm  mentioned  in  Chapter  II.,  led  to  the 
dividing  of  groups  of  eight  clicks  into  groups  of  fours, 
and  groups  of  fours  into  groups  of  twos.  As  illustrating 
this  form  of  varying  the  lengths  of  lines,  notice,  besides 
the  last  two  quotations,  the  following  : 

Yet  the  ear  distinctly  tells, 
In  the  jangling 
And  the  wrangling, 
How  the  danger  sinks  and  swells, 
By  the  sinking  or  the  swelling  in  the  anger  of  the  bells. 

—  The  Bells  :  Poe. 


STANZAS  AND    TYPICAL    VERSE-FORMS.  57 

When  the  grenadiers  were  lunging 
And  like  hail  fell  the  plunging 
Cannon  shot  ; 
When  the  files 
Of  the  isles 
From  the  smoky  night  encampment  bore  the  banner  of  the  rampant 
Unicorn. 

—  The  Old  Continentals  :  G.  H.  McMaster. 

Thus,  notwithstanding  apparent  obstacles,  does  the  ar- 
tistic tendency  to  put  like  effects  with  like  or  with  exact 
multiples  of  like  still  assert  itself. 

We  have  already  noticed  that  the  couplet  is  developed 
from  parallelism.  The  stanza  is  manifestly  a  result  of  em- 
ploying, in  addition  to  parallelism,  the  methods  that  have 
just  been  mentioned, — i.  e.,  a  result  of  massing  forms  of 
lines  and  couplets  according,  sometimes,  to  complicated 
methods  ;  and  always  in  such  ways  as  to  give  them  cer- 
tain definite  limits  of  continuity  (see  page  3),  different 
stanzas  dividing  whole  poems  into  large  groups,  just  as 
different  lines  divide  the  stanzas  and  different  feet  divide 
the  lines.  The  canto,  a  larger  division  composed  of  sev- 
eral stanzas,  is  merely  a  result  of  convenience,  or  of  logical 
requirement  in  the  arrangement,  and  has  nothing  to  do 
with  effects  of  rhythm,  per  se. 

As  will  be  shown  in  Chapter  XII.,  and  therefore  need 
not  be  anticipated  here,  the  arrangement  of  words  in 
measures  and  lines,  according  as  these  are  long  or  short, 
has  much  to  do  with  causing  those  upward  and  down- 
ward movements  of  the  voice  at  long  or  short  intervals, 
which  determine  the  character  of  the  tunes  of  verse. 
It  is  this  inseparable  blending  of  the  effects  of  metre, 
verse,  and  tune  that  makes  it  appropriate  to  compare,  as 
some  are  fond  of  doing,  the  movements  of  lines  of  differ- 
ent rhythm,  in  connection  with  their  accompanying  tunes, 


5 8      RHYTHM  AND  HARMON V  IN  POE TR  Y  AND  MUSIC. 

to  different  kinds  of  lines  in  the  arts  of  sight.  Double 
measures,  for  instance,  in  which  the  unaccented  syllable 
is  long,  especially  if  this  be  a  single  monosyllabic  word, 
which  itself,  might,  if  rightly  situated,  receive  an  accent, 
may  be  said  to  cause  a  monotonous  movement,  resem- 
bling that  of  a  straightly  drawn  or  only  slightly  waving 
line.  Notice  this  effect  in  the  first  quotation  on  page  60. 
Double  measures,  however,  in  which  the  unaccented  sylla- 
ble is  short,  may  be  said  to  cause  a  direct  upward  and 
downward  movement  resembling  that  of  a  sharply  drawn 
angular  and  zigzag  line.  Notice  the  second  quotation 
on  page  60.  Triple  measures,  on  the  other  hand,  in 
which  the  voice  on  the  first  syllable  following  the  accented 
one  is  neither  so  high  as  on  the  accent,  nor  so  low  as  on 
the  second  syllable  following  the  accent,  may  be  said  to 
cause  a  gradation  of  movement,  resembling  that  of  a 
line  curving.  Notice  the  third  quotation  on  page  60. 
As  applied  to  groupings  larger  than  those  of  measures, 
lines  of  verse,  in  the  degree  in  which  they  are  long  and 
are  also  of  uniform  length,  may  be  said  to  increase  the 
generally  monotonous  and  straight  effect  of  double 
measures  of  long  quantity.  Notice  again  the  first  quo- 
tation on  page  60.  On  the  contrary,  shortness  of  lines 
and  irregularity  in  their  length  may  be  said  to  increase 
the  angularity  of  effect.  Notice  the  last  two  quotations 
on  page  56,  and  the  one  on  page  57.  Once  more, 
length  of  lines  and  uniformity  in  length  may  be  said 
to  increase  the  rounded,  rolling  effect  of  triple  measures 
(notice  on  page  64  the  hymns  in  the  metres  termed 
Elevens  and  Twelves);  while  shortness  of  lines,  owing 
to  the  pauses  at  the  ends  of  them,  and  especially 
if  accompanied  by  occasional  double  measures,  may  be 
said    to    increase     the    angularity     of     these     rounded 


STANZAS  AND    TYPICAL    VERSE-FORMS.  59 

effects.  Notice  the  second  quotation  on  page  56,  and 
the  second  on  page  61. 

These  correspondences  between  effects  in  lines  of  verse 
and  in  lines  of  vision  have,  of  course,  a  theoretical  rather 
than  a  practical  interest.  More  important  to  the  logical 
unfolding  of  our  subject  is  the  fact  that  the  necessary 
connection  between  effects  of  rhythm  and  of  harmony 
indicated  at  the  opening  of  the  last  paragraph  involves 
in  rhythm,  for  the  same  reasons  as  in  harmony,  a  ful- 
filment of  the  methods  of  consonance,  dissonance,  and  in- 
terchange (see  page  3).  Still  more  clearly,  perhaps,  does 
it  involve  gradation.  This  fact,  as  applied  to  changes 
of  pitch  in  triple  measures,  was  mentioned  in  the  last 
paragraph.  With  reference  to  its  application  in  all  kinds 
of  measures  to  changes  in  force,  it  may  be  said  that  certain 
experiments  in  the  thesis  on  "  Rhythm  "  mentioned  in 
Chapter  II.  showed  that  where  three  clicks,  all  equally 
loud,  formed  a  group,  the  first  of  the  three  appeared  to 
be  the  louder ;  the  second,  less  loud ;  and  the  last  the 
least  loud  of  all.  In  the  same  way,  of  course,  poetic 
measures  not  only  of  two  but  of  three  syllables  must 
involve  apparent  if  not  real  gradations  in  intensity. 

Notice  also  gradations  in  regularity,  as  revealed  in  the 
effects  of  lines  in  the  quotation  from  Christabel  on  page 
39.  These  lines  start  with  double  measures,  then  intro- 
duce more  and  more  triple  measures  till,  finally,  all  the 
measures  become  triple.  More  sudden  changes  of  metre, 
whether  in  the  middles  of  lines,  or  at  the  ends,  as  illus- 
trated on  page  45  involve,  of  course,  the  method  of  abrupt- 
ness ;  while  the  comparative  length  of  both  measures  and 
lines  is  intimately  connected  with  the  general  methods  of 
transition  and  progress.  It  is  the  character  of  the  rhythm, 
for  instance,  that  causes  an  effect  of  slow  progress  in  the 
following : 


60  RHYTHM  AND  HARMONY  IN  POETRY  AND  MUSIC. 

Firm-paced  and  slow,  a  horrid  front  they  form, 
Still  as  the  breeze,  but  dreadful  as  the  storm  ; 
Low,  murmuring  sounds  along  their  banners  fly, 
Revenge  or  death, — the  watchword  and  reply. 

— Pleasures  of  Hope  :   Campbell. 

And  of  rapid  progress  in  this : 

Singing  through  the  forests  ; 

Rattling  over  ridges  ; 
Shooting  under  arches  ; 

Rumbling  over  bridges  ; 

— Railroad  Rhymes  :  J.  G.  Saxe. 

There  is  always  a  tendency  to  slow  movement  in  meas- 
ures containing  vowels  of  long  quantity,  as  well  as  in  long 
lines  made  up  of  these  measures.  With  any  kind  of  quan- 
tity, however,  the  tendency  in  the  direction  of  rapid 
movement  is  increased  in  the  degree  in  which  the  verses 
contain  rhymes  either  at  the  ends  of  lines  or  of  half  lines. 
As  stated  in  "  Poetry  as  a  Representative  Art,"  it  is  a 
characteristic  of  rhyming  words  to  emphasize  strongly  the 
ideas  expressed  through  them.  They  convey  the  impres- 
sion, therefore,  that  something  important  has  been  said  ; 
and  if  they  occur  frequently,  they  suggest  that  many  im- 
portant things  have  been  said,  and  said  in  a  short  time, 
or — what  is  equivalent  to  this — that  the  thought  in  the 
poem  is  moving  on  rapidly,  an  effect  that  could  not  be 
produced  by  the  same  thoughts  differently  worded.  Of 
course,  it  follows  that  the  nearer  together  the  rhymes  are, 
the  more  rapid  seems  to  be  the  movement.  Compare 
these  two  stanzas,  and  notice  the  quickening  of  the  move- 
ment in  the  second  of  them  : 

The  baron  returned  in  three  days'  space, 

And  his  looks  were  sad  and  sour, 
And  weary  was  his  courser's  pace, 

As  he  reached  his  rocky  tower. 


STANZAS  AND    TYPICAL    VERSE-FORMS.  6 1 

My  lady  each  night  sought  the  lonely  light 

That  burns  on  the  wild  Watchfold, 
For  from  height  to  height  the  beacons  bright 

Of  the  English  foemen  told. 

— Eve  of  St.  John  :  Scott. 

The  rhythmic  possibilities  of  different  forms  of  stanzas, 
as  determined  by  the  number  and  length  of  their  lines 
and  of  the  feet  composing  these,  can  be  best  brought  out 
by  bringing  together  some  of  those  in  most  common  use, 
and  allowing  the  reader  to  compare  them.  It  needs  to  be 
pointed  out,  however,  that  the  exact  length  of  the  stanza 
does  not  determine  the  character  of  the  rhythm  as  much 
as  does  the  general  or  the  comparative  length  of  the 
different  lines  composing  it.  This  will  be  recognized 
upon  reading  the  poetry  on  pages  173  and  174.  Here  are 
triplets — stanzas  composed  of  three  lines.  In  both  ex- 
amples, we  have  terminal  or  iambic  measures  : 

Whoe'er  she  be 

That  not  impossible  she 

That  shall  command  my  heart  and  me. 

—  Wishes  for  the  Supposed  Mistress  :  R.  Crashaw. 

Who  rowing  hard  against  the  stream 
Saw  distant  gates  of  Eden  gleam, 
And  did  not  dream  it  was  a  dream. 

—  Two  Voices:    Tennyson. 

The  quatrain,  or  stanza  of  four  lines,  is  the  most  com- 
mon of  any.  Let  us  notice  different  examples  of  this,  as 
used  in  our  hymns  ;  and  first,  Short  metre,  as  it  is  termed  : 
A  terminal  (or  iambic)  trimeter,  with  the  third  line  a 
tetrameter : 

Give  me,  O  Lord,  a  place 

Within  thy  blest  abode, 
Among  the  children  of  thy  grace, 

The  servants  of  my  God. 

— Stennett. 


62      RHYTHM  AND  HARMONY  IN  FOE  TRY  AND  MUSIC. 

Common  metre  :  A  terminal  (or  iambic)  tetrameter  fol- 
lowed by  a  trimeter.  This  is  the  same  as  our  ordinary 
ballad  measure  : 

Thanks  to  my  God  for  every  gift 

His  bounteous  hands  bestow  ; 
And  thanks  eternal  for  that  love 

Whence  all  those  comforts  flow. 

— Heginbotham . 

Long  metre  :  A  terminal  (or  iambic)  tetrameter  : 

From  all  that  dwell  below  the  skies 
Let  the  Creator's  praise  arise  : 
Let  the  Redeemer's  name  be  sung, 
Through  every  land,  by  every  tongue. 

—  Watts. 

Notice  how  different  is  the  movement  of  the  same  meas- 
ure when  the  rhymes  are  differently  arranged  : 

Strong  Son  of  God,  immortal  Love 

Whom  we,  that  have  not  seen  thy  face, 
By  faith  and  faith  alone  embrace, 

Believing  where  we  cannot  prove. 

— In  Memoriam  :   Tennyson. 

Sevens :  So  named  from  the  number  of  syllables  in  the 
line ;  an  initial  (or  trochaic)  tetrameter  less  one  unac- 
cented syllable : 

Whom  have  I  on  earth  below  ? 
Thee,  and  only  Thee,  I  know  : 
Whom  have  I  in  heaven  but  thee  ? 
Thou  art  all  in  all  to  me. 

— C.    WesUy. 

Eights  :     A  triple  terminal  (or  anapaestic)  trimeter  : 


STANZAS  AND    TYPICAL    VERSE-FORMS.  63 

Oh  !  drive  these  dark  clouds  from  the  sky, 

Thy  soul-cheering  presence  restore  ; 
Or  bid  me  soar  upward  on  high, 

Where  winter  and  storms  are  no  more. 

— Newton. 

Tens  :     A  terminal  (or  iambic)  pentameter  : 

Abide  with  me  !     Fast  falls  the  eventide, 
The  darkness  deepens — Lord,  with  me  abide  ! 
When  other  helpers  fail,  and  comforts  flee, 
Help  of  the  helpless,  oh,  abide  with  me  ! 

—H.  T.  Lyte. 

Tens  :     A  terminal  triple  and  double  (or  anapaestic  and 
iambic)  tetrameter : 

Who — who  would  live  alway,  away  from  his  God  ; 
Away  from  yon  heaven,  that  blissful  abode, 
Where  the  rivers  of  pleasure  flow  o'er  the  bright  plains, 
And  the  noontide  of  glory  eternally  reigns  ? 

— Muhlenberg. 

Elevens  and  tens  :     An  initial  double  and  triple  (or  dac- 
tylic and  trochaic)  tetrameter : 

Hail  to  the  brightness  of  Zion's  glad  morning, 
Long  by  the  prophets  of  Israel  foretold  ; 
Hail  to  the  millions  from  bondage  returning, 
Gentile  and  Jew  the  blest  vision  behold. 

— Hastings. 

Tens   and   elevens :     A  terminal   triple  and    double   (or 
anapaestic  and  iambic)  tetrameter : 

Oh,  worship  the  King  all-glorious  above, 
And  gratefully  sing  his  wonderful  love  ; 
Our  Shield  and  Defender,  the  Ancient  of  days, 
Pavilioned  in  splendor,  and  girded  with  praise. 

— Grant. 


64      RH  YTHM  A  ND  HA  RMON  Y  IN  POETRY  A  ND  M  USIC. 

Elevens  :      A  terminal  triple  and    double    (or  anapaestic 
and  iambic)  tetrameter  : 

The  Lord  is  my  shepherd,  no  want  shall  I  know, 

I  feed  in  green  pastures,  safe-folded  I  rest  ; 
He  leadeth  my  soul  where  the  still  waters  flow, 

Restores  me  when  wandering,  redeems  when  oppressed. 

— Montgomery. 

Twelves :     A  terminal  triple  or  double  (anapaestic  or  iam- 
bic) tetrameter,  with  one  added  unaccented  syllable : 

Thou  art  gone  to  the  grave, — we  no  longer  deplore  thee, 
Though  sorrows  and  darkness  encompass  the  tomb  ; 
The  Saviour  has  passed  through  its  portals  before  thee, 
And  the  lamp  of  his  love  is  thy  guide  through  the  gloom. 

— Heber. 

Here  are  stanzas  of  five  lines  of  unequal  length  and  char- 
acter ;  the  first  with  initial  measures. 

Hail  to  thee,  blithe  spirit, 

Bird  thou  never  wert, 
That  from  heaven  or  near  it, 

Pourest  thy  full  heart 
In  profuse  strains  of  unpremeditated  art. 

—  To  the  Skylark  :   Shelley. 

These  others  have  terminal  measures  : 

O  World  !  O  Life  !  O  Time, 
On  whose  last  steps  I  climb, 

Trembling  at  that  where  I  had  stood  before  ; 
When  will  return  the  glory  of  your  prime  ? 

No  more, — O  nevermore  ! 

— A  Lament  :    Shelley. 

O  what  a  damp  and  shade 

Doth  me  invade  ! 

No  stormy  night 

Could  so  afflict  or  so  affright, 

As  thy  eclipsed  light. 

— A  Parodie  :    Geo.  Herbert. 


STANZAS  AND    TYPICAL    VERSE-FORMS.  6$ 

How  sweet  the  answer  Echo  makes 

To  music  at  night, 
When  roused  by  lute  or  horn,  she  wakes, 
And  far  away  o'er  lawns  and  lakes 

Goes  answering  light. 

— Echoes  :    T.  Moore. 

The  day  is  cold  and  dark  and  dreary  ; 

It  rains  and  the  wind  is  never  weary  ; 

The  vine  still  clings  to  the  mouldering  wall, 
But  at  every  gust  the  dead  leaves  fall, 

And  the  day  is  dark  and  dreary. 

—  The  Rainy  Day  :   Longfellow. 

Among  stanzas  of  six  lines  we  find  many  of  our  hymns 
again,  e.  g.,  Eighths,  sevens  and  fours,  containing  lines 
with  four  or  else  two  initial  (or  trochaic)  measures  : 

Yea,  Amen  !  let  all  adore  thee, 

High  on  thine  eternal  throne  ! 
Saviour,  take  the  power  and  glory  ; 
Make  thy  righteous  sentence  known  ! 

Oh,  come  quickly, 
Claim  the  kingdom  for  thine  own  ! 

— Brydges. 

Hallelujah  metre,  containing  lines  with  three  terminal  (or 
iambic)  measures  and  four  in  the  last  couplet : 

Awake,  ye  saints,  awake  ! 

And  hail  this  sacred  day  ; 
In  loftiest  songs  of  praise 

Your  joyful  homage  pay  : 
Come  bless  the  day  that  God  hath  blest, 
The  type  of  heaven's  eternal  rest. 

—Cotter  ill. 

Short  hallelujah  metre,  containing  lines  with  three  terminal 
(or  iambic)  measures,  but  containing  four  in  the  third, 
fifth,  and  sixth  : 


66      RHYTHM  AND  HARMON  Y  IN  POETR  Y  AND  MUSIC, 

Thus  star  by  star  declines, 

Till  all  are  passed  away, 
As  morning  high  and  higher  shines, 

To  pure  and  perfect  day  ; 
Nor  sink  those  stars  in  empty  night — 
They  hide  themselves  in  heaven's  own  light. 

— Montgomery. 

Long  common  metre,  containing  terminal  (or  iambic)  tet- 
rameters  and  trimeters  : 

Oh,  could  I  speak  the  matchless  worth, 
Oh,  could  I  sound  the  glories  forth, 

Which  in  my  Saviour  shine  ! 
I  'd  soar,  and  touch  the  heavenly  strings, 
And  vie  with  Gabriel,  while  he  sings 

In  notes  almost  divine. 

— Medley. 

To  these  let  us  add  a  few  others : 

Spring  is  cheery, 

Winter  is  dreary, 
Green  leaves  hang,  but  the  brown  must  fly  ; 

When  he  's  forsaken 

Withered  and  shaken, 
What  can  an  old  man  do  but  die  ? 

— Spring,  It  is  Cheery  :    T.  Hood. 

Then  when  the  gale  is  sighing, 
And  when  the  leaves  are  dying, 

And  when  the  song  is  o'er, 
Oh,  let  us  think  of  those 
Whose  lives  are  lost  in  woes, 

Whose  cup  of  grief  runs  o'er. 

— Moan,  Moan,   Ye  Dying  Gales  :    H  Neele. 

Even  as  the  sun  with  purple-color'd  face 

Had  ta'en  his  last  leave  of  the  weeping  morn, 
Rose-cheek'd  Adonis  hied  him  to  the  chase  ; 

Hunting  he  loved,  but  love  he  laughed  to  scorn  : 
Sick-thoughted  Venus  makes  amain  unto  him, 
And  like  a  bold-faced  suitor  'gins  to  woo  him. 

—  Venus  and  Adonis  :  Shakespeare. 


STANZAS  AND    TYPICAL    VERSE-FORMS.  6V 

Now  let  us  notice  stanzas  of  seven  lines.  The  first  has 
initial  measures  : 

Jesus,  victim,  comprehending 

Love  's  divine  self-abnegation, 
Cleanse  my  love  in  its  self-spending, 

And  absorb  the  poor  libation  ! 
Wind  my  thread  of  life  up  higher, 
Up  through  angels'  hands  of  fire  ! — 
I  aspire  while  I  expire  ! — 

— Bertha  in  the  Lane  :   Mrs.  Browning. 

The  second,  a  hymn  in  the  metre  called  Sixes  and  fours, 
has  terminal  measures : 

Our  father's  God  !  to  thee, 
Author  of  liberty, 

To  thee  we  sing  : 
Long  may  our  land  be  bright 
With  freedom's  holy  light ; 
Protect  us  by  thy  might, 

Great  God,  our  King 

— S.  F.  Smith. 

There  are  certain  stanzas  of  a  definite  type  that  ought 
to  be  noticed  here.  The  following  is  one.  It  is  called 
the  royal  rhythm,  or  the  shorter  Chaucerian.  By  repre- 
senting each  different  rhyme,  as  is  customary  with  writers 
on  these  subjects,  by  a  different  letter  of  the  alphabet, 
the  rhyme-order  may  be  indicated  thus :  a  b  a  b  b  c  c. 

Alias  !  Custance  !  thou  hast  no  champion 
Ne  fyghte  canstow  nought,  so  weylawey 
But  he,  that  starf  for  our  redempciSn, 
And  bond  Sathan  (and  yit  lyth  ther  he  lay) 
So  be  thy  stronge  champioun  this  day 
For,  but  if  crist  open  miracle  kythe, 
Withouten  gilt  thou  shalt  be  slayn  as  swythe. 

—  The  Tale  of  the  Man  of  Law  :     Chaucer. 


6S      RHYTHM  AND  HARMON  Y  IN  FOE TR  Y  AND  MUSIC. 

Stanzas  containing  eight  lines  are  very  common.  Of 
those  that  are  not  merely  a  result  of  doubling  stanzas  of 
four  lines,  the  more  frequently  used  are  as  follows ;  of 
hymns,  those  in  the  metres  called  Sevens  and  sixes : 

Rivers  to  the  ocean  run, 

Nor  stay  in  all  their  course  ; 
Fire  ascending  seeks  the  sun, 

Both  speed  them  to  their  source  ; 
So  a  soul  that  's  born  of  God, 

Pants  to  view  his  glorious  face, 
Upward  tends  to  his  abode, 

To  rest  in  his  embrace. 


Sevens,  sixes,  and  eights  : 


Saviour,  Prince,  enthroned  above, 

Repentance  to  impart, 
Give  me,  through  thy  dying  love, 

The  humble,  contrite  heart : 
Give  what  I  have  long  implored, 

A  portion  of  thy  grief  unknown 
Turn,  and  look  upon  me,  Lord  ! 

And  break  my  heart  of  stone. 


Eights  and  sevens : 


Let  our  mutual  love  be  fervent  : 

Make  us  prevalent  in  prayer  ; 
Let  each  one  esteemed  thy  servant 

Shun  the  world's  bewitching  snare. 
Break  the  tempter's  fatal  power, 

Turn  the  stony  heart  to  flesh, 
And  begin  from  this  good  hour 

To  revive  thy  work  afresh. 


■Seagrave. 


— Anon. 


— Newton. 


Here  is  another  stanza  used  by  Chaucer,  the  rhyme- 
order  of  which  is  a  b  a  b  b  c  b  c  : 


STANZAS  AND    TYPICAL    VERSE-FORMS.  69 

I  wol  biwaille,  in  manere  of  tragedie 
The  harm  of  hem  that  stoode  in  heigh  degree, 
And  fillen  so  that  ther  was  no  remedie 
To  brynge  hem  out  of  hir  adversitee  ; 
For  certein,  whan  that  fortune  list  to  flee, 
Ther  may  no  man  the  cours  of  hire  withholde, 
Lat  no  man  truste  on  blynd  prosperitee  ; 
Be  war  by  thise  ensamples  trewe  and  olde. 

— The  Monk's  Tale  :  Chaucer. 

Of  stanzas  containing  nine  lines,  the  Spenserian,  so 
called  because  adopted  from  the  Italian  by  Spenser,  and 
first  used  in  English  in  his  "  Fairie  Queene  "  is  exactly 
like  the  above,  with  the  exception  of  an  addition  at  its 
end  of  a  single  Alexandrine  line  of  six  measures.  See 
page  37.     The  rhyme-order  here  is  a  b  a  b  b  c  b  c  c. 

From  thence  into  the  sacred  Church  he  broke, 

And  rcb'd  the  Chancell,  and  the  deskes  downe  threw, 

And  Altars  fouled,  and  blasphemy  spoke, 

And  th'  Images,  for  all  their  goodly  hew, 

Did  cast  to  ground,  whilest  none  was  them  to  rew  ; 

So  all  confounded  and  disordered  there  : 

But,  seeing  Calidore,  away  he  flew, 

Knowing  his  fatall  hand  by  former  feare  ; 

But  he  him  fast  pursuing  soone  approached  neare. 

— Fairie  Queene,  vi.,  12,  25  :  Spenser. 

Owing  to  the  number  of  like  rhymes  necessitated  by 
this  stanza,  it  is  difficult  to  write  with  success.  But  it  has 
been  used  by  many  modern  poets,  noticeably  by  Burns, 
in  his  "  Cotter's  Saturday  Night,"  by  Keats,  in  his  "  St. 
Agnes  Eve,"  and  by  Byron,  in  his  "  Childe  Harold,"  e.g. : 

To  sit  on  rocks,  to  muse  o'er  flood  and  fell, 
To  slowly  trace  the  forest's  shady  scene, 
Where  things  that  own  not  man's  dominion  dwell, 
And  mortal  foot  hath  ne'er  or  rarely  been  ; 


JO      RHYTHM  AND  HARMON Y  IN  FOE TR Y  AND  MUSIC. 

To  climb  the  trackless  mountain  all  unseen, 
With  the  wild  flock,  that  never  needs  a  fold  ; 
Alone,  o'er  steeps  and  foaming  falls  to  lean  ; — 
This  is  not  solitude  ;  't  is  but  to  hold 

Converse  with  Nature's  charms,  and  view  her  stores  unrolled. 

— Childe  Harold,  2  :  Byron. 

The  longer  Chaucerian  stanza  also  contains  nine  lines. 
It  differs  from  the  shorter  Chaucerian  by  the  addition  of 
the  second  and  fifth  lines,  making  the  rhyme-order  aab  a 
a  b  b c  c,  e.g. 

The  ordre  of  compleynt  requireth  skylfully, 

That  yf  a  wight  shal  pleyne  pitously 

Ther  mot  be  cause  wherfore  that  men  pleyn, 

Other,  men  may  deme  he  pleyneth  folely, 

And  causeles  ;  alas,  that  am  not  I  ! 

Wherefore  the  grounde  and  cause  of  al  my  peyn, 

So  as  my  troubled  witte  may  hit  ateyn, 

I  wol  reherse,  not  for  to  have  redresse, 

But  to  declare  my  grounde  of  hevynesse. 

—  The  Complaint  of  Mars  :  Chaucer. 

There  are  no  other  typical  stanzas  that  need  to  be  con- 
sidered here,  aside  from  the  typical  forms  of  poems  of 
which  they  constitute  parts.  The  most  important  of  these 
poems  is  not  divided  into  stanzas  at  all,  though  it  is  some- 
times described  as  a  poem  of  one  stanza.  This  is  the  son- 
net. It  is  always  made  up  of  fourteen  lines,  of  which, 
when  it  is  constructed  according  to  rule,  it  may  be  said 
that  the  first  four  introduce  the  subject  or  theme  ;  that 
the  second  four  develop  this  through  introducing  new  ma- 
terial, either  by  way  of  specification,  explanation,  elabo- 
ration, or  illustration,  and  that  the  last  six  make  a  specific 
or  general  application  of  the  whole,  with  the  point  of  all, 
if  possible,  expressed  in  the  final  line.  In  his  "  System  of 
English  Versification,"  Everett  says  of  this  form : 


STANZAS  AND    TYPICAL    VERSE-FORMS.  fl 

"  The  Sonnet,  like  the  Spenserian  stanza,  was  borrowed  from  the  Italians. 
Petrarch  is  reckoned  the  father  of  it.  It  is  still  more  difficult  of  construction 
than  the  Spenserian  stanza ;  for,  besides  requiring  a  great  number  of 
rhymes,  it  demands  a  terseness  of  construction,  and  a  point  in  the  thought, 
which  that  does  not.  In  the  Sonnet,  no  line  should  be  admitted  merely  for 
ornament,  and  the  versification  should  be  faultless.  Sonnets,  like  Spenserian 
stanzas,  are  somewhat  affected  ;  and  this  is  to  be  attributed  to  the  age  in 
which  they  were  introduced,  when  far-fetched  thoughts  and  ingenious  ideas 
were  more  in  vogue  than  simple  and  natural  expression." 

Besides  Petrarch,  the  foremost  writers  of  sonnets  among 
the  Italians  are  Dante,  Michael  Angelo,  Tasso,  Ariosto, 
and  Vittoria  Colonna ;  and  among  the  English,  Spen- 
ser, Shakespeare,  Milton,  Wordsworth,  Keats,  and  Mrs. 
Browning.  In  Tomlinson's  "Sonnet:  Its  Origin,  Struc- 
ture, and  Place  in  Poetry,"  three  types  are  indicated  in 
accordance  with  which  the  most  of  the  Italian  sonnets 
were  composed. 

The  rhyme-order  of  the  first  was  a  b  b  a  ab  b  ac d e c de. 
Here  is  an  English  example  of  this: 

Cyriack,  whose  grandsire  on  the  royal  bench 
Of  British  Themis,  with  no  mean  applause, 
Pronounced,  and  in  his  volumes  taught,  our  laws, 
Which  others  at  their  bar  so  often  wrench  ; 
To-day  deep  thoughts  resolve  with  me  to  drench 
In  mirth  that,  after,  no  repenting  draws  ; 
Let  Euclid  rest,  and  Archimedes  pause, 
And  what  the  Swede  intend,  and  what  the  French. 
To  measure  life  learn  thou  betimes,  and  know 
Toward  solid  good  what  leads  the  nearest  way  ; 
For  other  things  mild  heaven  a  time  ordains, 
And  disapproves  that  care,  though  wise  in  show, 
That  with  superfluous  burden  loads  the  day, 
And,  when  God  sends  a  cheerful  hour,  refrains. 

—  To  Cyriack  Skinner :  Milton. 

The  rhyme-order  of  the  second  type  was  a  b  b  a  ab  b  a 
c  d  c  d  c  d ;   e.  g. : 


J 2      RH  YTHM  AND  HARMON  Y  IN  POE  TR  Y  AND  MUSIC. 

A  flock  of  sheep  that  leisurely  pass  by, 
One  after  one  ;  the  sound  of  rain,  and  bees 
Murmuring  ;  the  fall  of  rivers,  winds  and  seas 
Smooth  fields,  white  sheets  of  water,  and  pure  sky  ; 
By  turns  have  all  been  thought  of  ;  yet  I  lie 
Sleepless,  and  soon  the  small  birds'  melodies 
Must  hear,  first  uttered  from  my  orchard  trees  ; 
And  the  first  cuckoo's  melancholy  cry. 
Even  thus  last  night,  and  two  nights  more,  I  lay, 
And  could  not  win  thee,  sleep  !  by  any  stealth  : 
So  do  not  let  me  wear  to-night  away  : 
Without  thee  what  is  all  the  morning's  wealth  ? 
Come,  blessed  barrier  between  day  and  day, 
Dear  mother  of  fresh  thoughts  and  joyous  health. 

—  To  Sleep:    Wordsivorth. 

The  rhyme-order  of  the  third  type  was  abbaabba 
c  d  e  d  c  e  ;  e.  g. : 

Good  Kosciusko  !  thy  great  name  alone 

Is  a  full  harvest  whence  to  reap  high  feeling  ; 

It  comes  upon  us  like  the  glorious  pealing 

Of  the  wide  spheres — an  everlasting  tone. 

And  now  it  tells  me  that  in  worlds  unknown, 

The  names  of  heroes,  burst  from  clouds  concealing, 

Are  changed  to  harmonies  forever  stealing 

Through  cloudless  blue,  and  round  each  silver  throne. 

It  tells  me  too  that  on  a  happy  day, 

When  some  good  spirit  walks  upon  the  earth, 

Thy  name  with  Alfred's  and  the  great  of  yore, 

Gently  commingling  gives  tremendous  birth 

To  a  loud  hymn  that  sounds  far  far  away 

To  where  the  great  God  lives  forevermore. 

—  To  Kosciusko  :  Keats. 

There  are,  however,  many  sonnets  written  in  our  lan- 
guage which,  resemble  the  Italian  only  in  the  general  length 
and  number  of  their  lines.  Neither  the  thought  nor  the 
rhymes  are  arranged  as  in  the  original.  This  does  not 
prevent  their  being  sometimes  very  beautiful ;  but  it  does 


STANZAS  AND    TYPICAL    VERSE-FORMS.  73 

prevent  their  having  the  exact  effect  of  that  which  they 
are  supposed  to  reproduce.  Here  is  an  example  of  one 
of  these : 

When  Letty  had  scarce  passed  her  third  glad  year, 
And  her  young  artless  words  began  to  flow, 
One  day  we  gave  the  child  a  colored  sphere 
Of  the  wide  earth  that  she  might  mark  and  know 
By  tint  and  outline  all  its  sea  and  land. 
She  patted  all  the  world  ;  old  Empires  peeped 
Between  her  baby  fingers  ,   her  soft  hand 
Was  welcome  at  all  frontiers  ;  how  she  leaped 
And  laughed  and  pratted,  in  her  pride  of  bliss. 
But  when  we  turned  her  sweet  unlearne'd  eye 
On  our  own  isle,  she  raised  a  joyous  cry, 
"  Oh  yes,  I  see  it ;  Letty's  home  is  there." 
And  while  she  hid  all  England  with  a  kiss, 
Bright  over  Europe  fell  her  golden  hair. 

— Letty  s  Globe  :    Charles  Tennyson  Turner. 

Perhaps  it  is  in  place  here  to  introduce  specimens  of  some 
of  the  French  Forms  of  Verse  as  they  are  called — not  be- 
cause all  were  originated  by  that  people  ' ;  but  because 
they  are  used  by  them.  Though  presenting,  in  the  main, 
thought  that  is  lighter  than  that  in  the  sonnet,  they  are  all, 
like  it,  constructed  according  to  certain  prescribed  rules. 
These  do  not  apply,  however,  to  the  length  of  the  lines, 
which  in  all  of  them  seems  to  be  a  matter  of  indifference. 
On  pages  55,  56,  63,  107,  and  195  of  the  "  Genesis  of  Art- 
Form,"  comments  will  be  found  with  reference  to  the 
arrangements  both  of  the  thought  in  them  and  of  the 
peculiar  forms    of  repetition  characteristic  of  their  lines 

1  Most  of  these  forms  seem  to  have  been  used  by  the  predecessors  of 
Gower  and  Chaucer,  if  not,  as  some  assert,  by  these  poets  themselves. 
John  Shirley,  about  1440,  made  a  collection  of  Ballades,  Roundels,  Virelais, 
etc.     See  Gleeson  White's  Introduction  to  "  Ballades  and  Rondeaus." 


74      RH  YTHM  AND  HARMON  Y  IN  FOE  TR  Y  AND  MUSIC. 

and  rhymes.  Here  it  will  suffice  merely  to  ask  the  reader 
to  note  carefully  their  rhythmic  effects.  Owing  to  the 
difficulty  of  finding,  in  all  cases,  examples  exactly  fulfill- 
ing the  requirements  of  these  forms,  two  of  the  following 
poems  are  the  same  as  those  quoted  in  that  book. 

The  Triolet  has  eight  lines,  the  first,  fourth,  and  seventh, 
and  the  second  and  last  of  which  are  the  same.  The 
rhyme  order  is  a  b  a  a  a  b  a  b  ;   e.  g. : 

Easy  is  the  Triolet 

If  you  really  learn  to  make  it. 
Once  a  neat  refrain  you  get, 
Easy  is  the  Triolet. 
As  you  see. — I  pay  my  debt 

With  another  rhyme.     Deuce  take  it. 
Easy  is  the  Triolet, 

If  you  really  learn  to  make  it. 

—  Triolet :  W.  F.  Henley. 

The  Rondel,  a  term  used  to  distinguish  the  earliest  form 
of  the  modifications  of  the  same  in  the  more  modern  ron- 
deau and  roundel,  contains  fourteen  lines  in  three  stanzas, 
the  first,  seventh,  and  thirteenth  lines,  and  the  second, 
eighth,  and  fourteenth  of  which  are  the  same.  The  rhyme 
order — marking  the  refrain  by  capital  letters — is  usually 
A  B  a  b — b  a  A  B — a  b  a  b  A  B  ;  but  sometimes  it  is 
A  B  b  a — a  b  A  B — a  b  b  a  A.  The  following,  as  will  be 
perceived,  blends  both  forms. 

I  love  you  dearly,  O  my  sweet  ! 

Although  you  pass  me  lightly  by, 

Although  you  weave  my  life  awry. 
And  tread  my  heart  beneath  your  feet. 

I  tremble  at  your  touch,  I  sigh 
To  see  you  passing  down  the  street ; 
I  love  you  dearly,  O  my  sweet  ! 

Although  you  pass  me  lightly  by. 


STANZAS  AND    TYPICAL    VERSE-FORMS.  75 

You  say  in  scorn  that  love's  a  cheat, 

Passion  a  blunder,  youth  a  lie. 
I  know  not.     Only  when  we  meet 

I  long  to  kiss  your  hand  and  cry, 
"  I  love  you  dearly,  O  my  sweet  ! 

Although  you  pass  me  lightly  by." 

—Rondel:  J.  H.  McCarthy. 

The  Rondeau  contains  thirteen  lines  in  three  stanzas, 
with  an  unrhymed  refrain  at  the  end  of  the  second  and 
third  stanzas,  which  refrain  is  the  same  as  the  clause  with 
which  the  poem  opens.  The  rhyme  order  is  a  a  b  b  a — 
a  a  bf  refrain — a  abba,  refrain  ;   e.  g. : 

The  summer  's  gone — how  did  it  go  ? 
And  where  has  gone  the  dogwood's  show? 

The  air  is  sharp  upon  the  hill, 

And  with  a  tinkle  sharp  and  chill 
The  icy  little  brooklets  flow. 

What  is  it  in  the  season,  though, 
Brings  back  the  days  of  old,  and  so 
Sets  memory  recalling  still 
The  summer  's  gone  ? 

Why  are  my  days  so  dark  ?  for  lo, 
The  maples  with  fresh  glory  glow, 

Fair  shimmering  mists  the  valleys  fill, 
The  keen  air  sets  the  blood  a-thrill — 
Ah,  now  that  you  are  gone,  I  know 
The  summer  's  gone. 
September  ;  Airs  from  A  ready  :  H.  C.  B miner. 

The  Roundel  is  a  modern  modification  of  the  Rondel, 
and  contains  nine  lines  in  three  stanzas,  with  a  refrain  at 
the  end  of  the  first  and  third  of  these.  The  rhyme  order 
is  a  b  a  refrain — b  a  b — a  b  a  refrain  ;  e.g. : 


?6      RH  Y  THM  AND  HARMON  Y  IN  FOE  TRY  A  ND  MUSIC. 

We  know  not  yet  what  life  shall  be, 

What  shore  beyond  earth's  shore  be  set ; 
What  grief  awaits  us,  or  what  glee, 
We  know  not  yet. 

Still,  somewhere  in  sweet  converse  met, 

Old  friends,  we  say,  beyond  death's  sea 
Shall  meet  and  greet  us,  nor  forget 

Those  days  of  yore,  those  years  when  we 

Were  loved  and  true, — but  will  death  let 
Our  eyes  the  longed-for  vision  see  ? 
We  know  not  yet. 
— Mors  et  Vita  :  Roundel  by  Samue/  Waddington. 

The  Rondeau  Redouble,  by  no  means  a  double  Ron- 
deau, though  so  called,  contains  six  stanzas,  each  of  four 
lines.  The  four  lines  of  the  first  stanza  are  used  respec- 
tively for  the  last  lines  of  stanzas  two,  three,  four  and 
five;  while  the  last  line  of  the  sixth  stanza  is  new,  but  has 
added  to  it,  as  a  refrain,  the  first  half  of  the  poem's  open- 
ing line.  The  rhyme  order  is  a  b  a  b — b  a  b  a — a  b  a  b — 
b  a  b  a — a  b  a  b — b  aba  refrain,  e.  g.  : 

My  day  and  night  are  in  my  lady's  hand  ; 
I  have  no  other  sunrise  than  her  sight  ; 

For  me  her  favor  glorifies  the  land  ; 
Her  anger  darkens  all  the  cheerful  light, 

Her  face  is  fairer  than  the  hawthorn  white, 
When  all  a-flower  in  May  the  hedge-rows  stand  ; 

While  she  is  kind,  I  know  of  no  affright ; 
My  day  and  night  are  in  my  lady's  hand. 

All  heaven  in  her  glorious  eyes  is  spanned  ; 
Her  smile  is  softer  than  the  summer's  night, 

Gladder  than  daybreak  on  the  Faery  strand  ; 
I  have  no  other  sunrise  than  her  sight. 


STANZAS  AND    TYPICAL    VERSE-FORMS.  J  J 

Her  silver  speech  is  like  the  singing  flight 
Of  runnels  rippling  o'er  the  jewelled  sand  ; 

Her  kiss  a  dream  of  delicate  delight  ; 
For  me  her  favor  glorifies  the  land. 

What  if  the  Winter  chase  the  Summer  bland  ! 
The  gold  sun  in  her  hair  burns  ever  bright. 

If  she  be  sad,  straightway  all  joy  is  banned  ; 
Her  anger  darkens  all  the  cheerful  light. 

Come  weal  or  woe,  I  am  my  lady's  knight, 
And  in  her  service  every  ill  withstand  ; 

Love  is  my  lord  in  all  the  world's  despite, 
And  holdeth  in  the  hollow  of  his  hand 

My  day  and  night. 
— Rondeau  Redouble  :  John  Payne. 

The  Villanelle  is  made  up  of  five  stanzas  of  three  lines 
and  one  of  four  lines.  The  first  line  of  the  first  stanza 
concludes  the  second  and  fourth  stanzas,  and  is  the  third 
line  of  the  sixth  stanza ;  while  the  third  line  of  the  first 
stanza  concludes  the  third,  fifth,  and  last  stanzas,  e.  g. : 

Across  the  world  I  speak  to  thee  ; 

Where'er  thou  art  (I  know  not  where), 
Send  thou  a  messenger  to  me. 

I  here  remain  who  would  be  free, 

To  seek  thee  out  through  foul  or  fair, 
Across  the  world  I  speak  to  thee. 

Whether  beneath  the  tropic  tree, 

The  cooling  night-wind  fans  thy  hair, — 
Send  thou  a  messenger  to  me  ! 

Whether  upon  the  rushing  sea, 

A  foamy  track  thy  keel  doth  wear, — 
Across  the  world  I  speak  to  thee. 


78      RHYTHM  A ND  HARMON Y  IN  FOE TR  Y  AND  M USIC. 

Whether  in  yonder  star  thou  be, 

A  spirit  loosed  in  purple  air, — 
Send  thou  a  messenger  to  me  ! 


Hath  heaven  not  left  thee  memory 

Of  what  was  well  in  mortal's  share  ? 
Across  the  world  I  speak  to  thee  ; 
Send  thou  a  messenger  to  me  ! 
— Across  the  World  I  Speak  to  Thee  :  Edith  M.   Thomas. 

The  Kyrielle  is  made  up  of  stanzas  of  four  lines,  each 
of  eight  syllables,  the  last  line  of  each  stanza  being  the 
same.  The  rhyme  order  is  a  a  b  b — c  c  b  b — e  ebb,  etc. ; 
e.g.: 

A  little  pain,  a  little  pleasure, 
A  little  heaping  up  of  treasure  ; 
Then  no  more  gazing  upon  the  sun. 
All  things  must  end  that  have  begun. 

Where  is  the  time  for  hope  or  doubt  ? 
A  puff  of  the  wind,  and  life  is  out ; 
A  turn  of  the  wheel,  and  rest  is  won. 
All  things  must  end  that  have  begun. 

Golden  morning  and  purple  night, 
Life  that  fails  with  the  failing  light ; 
Death  is  the  only  deathless  one. 
All  things  must  end  that  have  begun. 

— From  a  Kyrielle  by  John  Payne. 

The  Pantoum  is  made  up  of  stanzas  of  four  lines,  the 
second  and  fourth  of  each  stanza  forming  the  first  and 
third  of  the  stanza  following ;  while  the  second  and  fourth 
of  the  final  stanza  are  the  first  and  third  of  the  first 
stanza.     The  rhyme  order  is  a  b  a  b — b  c  b  c,  etc. ;  e.  g. : 


STANZAS  AND    TYPICAL    VERSE-FORMS.  79 

Toiling  in  town  now  is  horrid 

(There  is  that  woman  again  !) — 
June  in  the  zenith  is  torrid, 

Thought  gets  dry  in  the  brain. 

There  is  that  woman  again  ; 

"  Strawberries  !  fourpence  a  pottle  !  " 
Thought  gets  dry  in  the  brain  ; 

Ink  gets  dry  in  the  bottle. 

"  Strawberries  !  fourpence  a  pottle  !  " 

Oh  for  the  green  of  a  lane  ! — 
Ink  gets  dry  in  the  bottle  ; 

"  Buzz  "  goes  a  fly  in  the  pane  ! 
— From  a  Pantoum,  In  Town,  by  Austin  Dob  son. 


The  wind  brings  up  the  hawthorn's  breath, 

The  sweet  airs  ripple  up  the  lake, 
My  soul,  my  soul  is  sick  to  death, 

My  heart,  my  heart  is  like  to  break. 

The  sweet  airs  ripple  up  the  lake, 

I  hear  the  thin  woods'  fluttering  : 
My  heart,  my  heart  is  like  to  break  : 

What  part  have  I,  alas  !  in  spring? 

I  hear  the  thin  woods'  fluttering  ; 

The  brake  is  brimmed  with  linnet-song  : 
What  part  have  I,  alas  !  in  spring? 

For  me  heart's  winter  is  life-long. 
— From  a  Pantoum  :  Song  in  the  Malay  manner  by  John  Payne. 

Here  is  a  form  of  French  chain  verse  taken  from  the 
excellent  manual  on  "  English  Versification  "  of  J.  C. 
Parsons. 

Nerve  thy  soul  with  doctrines  noble, 

Noble  in  the  walks  of  time, 
Time  that  leads  to  an  eternal, 

An  eternal  life  sublime  : 


80     RHYTHM  A ND  HA RMON Y  IN  FOE  TR  Y  A ND  MUSIC. 

Life  sublime  in  moral  beauty, 

Beauty  that  shall  ever  be  ; 
Ever  be  to  lure  thee  onward. 

Onward  to  the  fountain  free. 


— Anon. 


Here  is  a  like  poem,  published  in  1773. 

My  spirit  longeth  for  thee 
Within  my  troubled  breast, 

Although  I  be  unworthy 
Of  so  divine  a  guest. 

Of  so  divine  a  guest, 
Unworthy  though  I  be, 

Yet  has  my  heart  no  rest, 
Unless  it  comes  from  thee. 

Unless  it  comes  from  thee, 
In  vain  I  look  around  ; 

In  all  that  I  can  see 
No  rest  is  to  be  found. 

No  rest  is  to  be  found 
But  in  thy  blessed  love 

Oh,  let  my  wish  be  crowned, 
And  send  it  from  above. 


■John  Byrom. 


The  Ballade  contains  either  three  stanzas  of  eight  lines 
with  an  Envoy  of  four  lines,  or  three  stanzas  of  ten  lines 
with  an  Envoy  of  five  lines.  The  rhymes  must  be  the 
same,  and  occur  in  the  same  order  in  each  stanza,  the  same 
rhyming  syllable  must  not  be  used  twice  in  the  same 
poem,  and  the  sense  in  each  stanza  must  form  one  un- 
broken and  connected  whole.  The  rhyme  order  of  the 
first  form  is  ababbcbc  and  in  the  Envoy  b  c  b  c;  in  the 
second  form  it  is  a  b  a  b  b  c  c  d  c  d,  and  in  the  Envoy  c  c 
d  c  d.     Here  is  an  example  of  the  first  form  : 


STANZAS  AND    TYPICAL    VERSE-FORMS.  8 1 

She  's  had  a  Vassar  education, 

And  points  with  pride  to  her  degrees  ; 
She  's  studied  household  decoration  ; 

She  knows  a  dado  from  a  frieze, 

And  tells  Corots  from  Boldonis  ; 
A  Jacquemart  etching,  or  a  Haden, 

A  Whistler,  too,  perchance,  might  please 
A  frank  and  free  young  Yankee  maiden. 

She  does  not  care  for  meditation  ; 

Within  her  bonnet  are  no  bees  ; 
She  has  a  gentle  animation, 

She  joins  in  singing  simple  glees. 

She  tries  no  trills,  no  rivalries 
With  Lucca  (now  Baronin  Raden), 

WTith  Nilsson  or  with  Gerster  ;  she  's 
A  frank  and  free  young  Yankee  maiden. 

I  'm  blest  above  the  whole  creation, 

Far,  far  above  all  other  he's  ; 
I  ask  you  for  congratulation 

On  this,  the  best  of  jubilees  : 

I  go  with  her  across  the  seas 
Unto  what  Poe  would  call  an  Aiden, — 

I  hope  no  serpent 's  there  to  tease 
A  frank  and  free  young  Yankee  maiden. 

Envoy. 

Princes,  to  you  the  western  breeze 

Bears  many  a  ship,  and  heavy  laden, 
What  is  the  best  we  send  in  these  ? 

A  frank  and  free  young  Yankee  maiden. 

— An  American  Girl :  Br ander  Matthews. 

Here  are  the  first  stanza  and  the  Envoy  of  a  Ballade 
in  the  other  form.  The  thought  in  this,  as  often  in  the 
ballade,  is  of  a  more  serious  character.  Notice,  at  the  be- 
ginning of  the  Envoy,  as  also  of  the  last,  the  address  to  the 
Prince,  in  imitation  of  the  methods  of  the  old  balladists. 


82      RH  YTHM  AND  HARMON  Y  IN  POE TR  Y  AND  MUSIC. 

My  days  for  singing  and  loving  are  over 

And  stark  I  lie  in  my  narrow  bed, 
I  care  not  at  all  if  roses  cover 

Or  if  above  me  the  snow  is  spread  ; 

I  am  weary  of  dreaming  of  my  sweet  dead — 
Vera  and  Lilly  and  Annie  and  May, 
And  my  soul  is  set  on  the  present  fray, 

Its  piercing  kisses  and  subtle  snares  : 
So  gallants  are  conquered,  ah  wellaway, 

My  love  was  stronger  and  fiercer  than  theirs. 

Envoy. 

Prince  was  I  ever  of  festival  gay, 

And  time  never  silvered  my  locks  with  gray  ; 

The  love  of  your  lovers  is  as  hope  that  despairs, 
So  think  of  me  sometimes,  dear  ladies,  I  pray, 

My  love  was  stronger  and  fiercer  than  theirs. 

—  The  Ballade  of  Lovelace  :  George  Moore. 

The  Sestina  has  six  stanzas  of  six  lines  and  a  concluding 
stanza  of  three  lines.  The  rhyme-order  of  the  first  stanza 
is  abcdef\  of  the  second,  fa  e  b  dc,  of  the  third, 
c  f  d a  b  e\  of  the  fourth,  e  c  b  f  a  d\  of  the  fifth,  d e  a  c 
fb\  and  of  the  sixth,  b  d f  e  c  a.  In  the  concluding 
three  lines,  all  six  rhymes  are  used,  three  at  the  middles 
of  the  lines,  and  three  at  their  ends,  and  in  this  order: 
first  line  a  by  second  line  c  d,  third  line  e  f.  The  form  is 
exceedingly  artificial;  and,  as  most  of  the  rhymes  are  so 
far  apart  as  to  have  none  of  their  ordinary  effects,  there 
is  nothing  peculiar  to  the  rhythm  that  deserves  notice. 
Few  modern  sestinas  exemplify  the  rhyme-order  just  indi- 
cated.    Notice  this  sestina's  last  stanza  and  conclusion : 

And  into  every  mortal's  life  and  heart 
There  come  some  time  in  cloudy  days  or  fair, 
It  matters  not,  to  bless  and  light  his  fate 
For  one  short  space  the  perfume  of  the  rose  ; 
And  though  the  after  years  may  bring  but  tears, 
That  moment's  pleasure  is  of  Paradise. 


STANZAS  AND    TYPICAL    VERSE-FORMS.  83 

O  wondrous  rose  of  love  most  passing  fair, 

Whate'er  our  fate  in  earthly  Paradise, 

Grant  that  our  tears  be  dewdrops  in  thy  heart. 

— Sestina  :  Florence  M.  Byrne. 

The  Sicilian  Octave  is  a  single  stanza  of  eight  lines,  the 
rhyme-order  of  which  is  a  b  a  b  a  b  a  b.  Its  general  rhyth- 
mic effect  is  like  that  of  thousands  of  others  with  which 
we  are  familiar. 

The  Virelai  is  composed  of  nine  stanzas,  each  con- 
taining nine  lines.  In  each  stanza  there  are  two  different 
rhymes,  one  used  six  times,  and  the  other  three.  The 
one  that  is  used  three  times  is  used  six  times  in  the  fol- 
lowing stanza :  and  the  rhyme  used  six  times  in  the  first 
stanza  is  used  three  more  times  in  the  last  stanza.  Every 
rhyme,  therefore,  is  used  exactly  nine  times.  Here  are 
the  first  and  second  stanzas  of  a  Virelai : 

As  I  sat  sorrowing, 

Love  came  and  bade  me  sing 

A  joyous  song  and  meet, 
For  see  (said  he)  each  thing 
Is  merry  for  the  Spring, 

And  every  bird  doth  greet 
The  break  of  blossoming, 
That  all  the  woodlands  ring 

Unto  the  young  hours'  feet. 

Wherefore  put  off  defeat 
And  rouse  thee  to  repeat 

The  chimes  of  merles  that  go, 
With  flutings  shrill  and  sweet, 
In  every  green  retreat, 

The  tune  of  streams  that  flow, 
And  mark  the  fair  hours'  beat, 
With  running  ripples  fleet 

And  breezes  soft  and  low. 

— Spring  Sadness  ;  John  Payne. 


84      RH  YTHM  A ND  HA RMON  Y  IN  POE  TR  Y  AND  MUSIC. 

The  Chant  Royal,  said  to  be  so  called  because  those 
excelling  in  it  were  deemed  worthy  to  be  crowned  with 
garlands  like  conquering  kings,  consists  of  five  stanzas, 
each  containing  eleven  lines.  In  the  whole  chant  only 
five  rhymes  are  used,  which  rhymes,  not  words,  in  every 
stanza  are  the  same,  and  follow  in  the  same  order.  This 
order  in  the  stanza  is  ababccddede,  and,  in  the  En- 
voy, it  is  d  d  e  d  e,  the  final  line  being  the  same  in  each  of 
the  stanzas,  and  also  in  the  Envoy.  Owing  to  the  fewness 
of  its  rhymes,this  chant  is  exceedingly  difficult  to  construct, 
and  owing  to  its  general  effect,  it  was  formerly  reserved, 
says  Prof.  Gosse,  from  whom  the  following  final  stanza 
and  concluding  Envoy  are  quoted,  "  for  the  celebration  of 
divine  mysteries,  or  for  the  exploits  of  some  heroic  race." 

But  oh,  within  the  heart  of  this  great  flight, 
What  ivory  arms  hold  up  the  golden  lyre? 
What  form  is  this  of  more  than  mortal  height  ? 
What  matchless  beauty  !     What  inspired  ire  ! 
The  brindled  panthers  know  the  prize  they  bear, 
And  harmonize  their  steps  with  stately  care  ; 
Bent  to  the  morning  like  a  living  rose, 
The  immortal  splendor  of  his  face  he  shows, 
And  where  he  glances,  leaf  and  flower  and  wing 
Tremble  with  rapture,  stirred  in  their  repose, 
And  deathless  praises  to  the  vine-god  sing. 

Envoy. 

Prince  of  the  flute  and  ivy,  all  thy  foes 
Record  the  bounty  that  thy  grace  bestows 
But  we,  thy  servants,  to  thy  glory  cling  ; 
And  with  no  frigid  lips  our  songs  compose, 
And  deathless  praises  to  the  vine-god  sing. 

—  The  Praise  of  DionysUis  :  E.   W.  Gosse. 

Most  of  the  types  of  stanzas  that  we  have  considered  so 
far  are  regular  in  form.     In  the  Ode,  as  constructed  by 


STANZAS  AND    TYPICAL    VERSE-FORMS.  85 

Pindar,  there  were  nine  stanzas  of  different  forms  com- 
posed in  iambics.  The  first,  fourth,  and  seventh  stanzas 
corresponded ;  also  the  second,  fifth,  and  eighth ;  and  the 
third,  sixth,  and  ninth.  Gray's  "  Progress  of  Poetry  "  is  con- 
structed on  this  plan  ;  but  rigid  adherence  to  the  Pindaric 
type  is  not,  in  our  odes,  considered  essential.  On  the 
contrary,  the  form  is  chiefly  valued  on  account  of  the 
great  variety  of  rhythm — whether  manifested  in  lines  or 
stanzas — that  is  allowable  in  it.  It  is  usually  employed 
in  the  enthusiastic  expression  of  dignified  thought  as  in 
the  following: 

The  winds  come  to  me  from  the  fields  of  sleep, 
And  all  the  earth  is  gay  ; 
Land  and  sea 

Give  themselves  up  to  jollity 
And  with  the  heart  of  May 

Doth  every  beast  keep  holiday ; 
Thou  Child  of  joy, 
Shout  round  me,  let  me  hear  thy  shouts,  thou  happy  Shepherd-boy. 
— Ode  on  Intimations  of 'Immortality  :    Wordsworth. 

Comic  effects  are  sometimes  attributed  to  the  rhythm  ; 
but  in  many  such  cases  they  are  owing  less  to  the  char- 
acter of  the  measures,  whether  double  or  triple,  initial  or 
terminal ;  or  to  the  lines,  whether  long  or  short,  regular 
or  irregular,  than  to  the  character  of  the  words  that  are 
put  into  them.  For  instance,  in  the  following  we  find  the 
terminal  tetrameters  and  trimeters  of  the  Common  Metre 
of  so  many  of  our  hymns.  It  will  be  observed,  however, 
that  the  words  that  are  used  in  them  are  exceedingly  easy 
to  pronounce,  and  therefore,  when  combined  with  others, 
can  be  made  to  sound  light,  flippant,  and  rattling: 

Her  face  was  bad,  her  figure  worse, 
He  could  n't  bear  to  eat ; 


86      RHYTHM  AND  HARMONY  IN  POE TR  Y  AND  MUSIC, 

For  she  was  anything  but  like 
A  Grace  before  his  meat. 

—  Tim  Turpin  :   T.  Hood. 

And  this  is  the  same  as  our  Long  Metre : 

Well,  well,  the  chaplain  I  will  seek, 
We  '11  all  be  married  this  day  week — 
At  yonder  church  upon  the  hill ; 
It  is  my  duty,  and  I  will. 

—Captain  Reece  :    W.  S.  Gilbert. 

When  we  have  a  combination  of  double  and  triple 
measures,  the  latter,  because  pronounced  in  the  same 
relative  time  as  the  former,  are  necessarily  uttered  with 
a  certain  degree  of  rapidity.  For  this  reason,  these  rat- 
tling effects  are  at  their  best  where  triple  measures  are 
occasionally  introduced  : 

His  eyes  they  were  odd 

Like  the  eyes  of  a  cod, 
And  gave  him  the  look  of  a  watery  god. 

His  nose  was  a  snub, 

Under  which,  for  his  grub, 
Was  a  round  open  mouth  like  that  of  a  chub. 

—A  Flying  Visit  :    T.  Hood. 

In  cases  in  which  comic  effects  are  really  produced  by 
the  rhythm  aside  from  the  language,  it  seems  to  be  a 
legitimate  development  of  that  incongruity  which  in  other 
departments  is  recognized  to  be  their  most  prominent 
component.  Sometimes  this  incongruity  is  between  the 
thought  and  the  form,  as  in  the  following : 

Strike  the  concertina's  melancholy  string  ! 
Blow  the  spirit-stirring  harp  like  anything  ! 

Let  the  piano's  martial  blast 

Rouse  the  echoes  of  the  past, 
For  of  Agib,  Prince  of  Tartary,  I  sing. 

—  The  Story  of  Prince  Agib  :    W.  S.  Gilbert. 


STANZAS  AND    TYPICAL    VERSE-FORMS.  87 

"  This  to  thy  weazand  Christian  pest ! " 

Aloud  the  Turk  in  frenzy  yelled  it, 
And  drove  right  through  the  Doctor's  chest 

The  sabre  and  the  hand  that  held  it. 

The  blow  was  a  decisive  one, 

And  Doctor  Brown  grew  deadly  pasty — 

"  Now  see  the  mischief  that  you  've  done — 
You  Turks  are  so  extremely  hasty  !  " 

— Ben  Allah  Achmet  :    IV.  S.  Gilbert. 

In  other  cases,  however,  the  incongruity  is  distinctly  in 
the  form.  Notice  in  the  following  not  only  the  short, 
flippant,  and  rattling  nature  of  the  syllables,  but  the  effect 
of  a  triple  measure  at  the  end  of  each  line  in  a  place 
where  a  congruous  arrangement,  such  as  would  charac- 
terize a  serious  composition,  would  give  us  a  double 
measure,  followed  by  a  firmly  sustained  final  accent : 

So  I  whispered,  "  Dear  Elvira,  say,  what  can  the  matter  be  with  you? 
Does  anything  you  've  eaten,  darling  Popsy,  disagree  with  you  ? 

— Ferdinand  and  Elvira  :    W.  S.  Gilbert. 

Notice  the  same  lack  of  sustained  force,  and  therefore 
of  dignity,  in  the  final  measures  of  several  of  the  lines  in 
this: 

To  trace  the  Kilmansegg  pedigree 
To  the  very  roots  of  the  family  tree, 

Were  a  task  as  rash  as  ridiculous ; 
Through  antediluvian  mists  as  thick 
As  London  fog  such  a  line  to  pick 
Were  enough  in  truth  to  puzzle  old  Nick, 

Not  to  name  Sir  Harris  Nicholas. 
— Miss  Kilmansegg  and  her  Precious  Leg  :    T.  Hood. 

In  the  italicized  words  of  the  following  also  we  expect 
a  firmly  sustained  accented  final  measure.     It  is  the  en- 


SS      RH  YTHM  AND  HARMON  V  IN  ROE  TRY  A  ND  MUSIC. 

deavor  to  give  it  where  it  does  not  by  nature  belong  that 
makes  the  effect  ludicrous.  Sidney  Lanier,  in  his  "  Sci- 
ence of  English  Verse,"  attributes  a  comic  suggestiveness 
to  the  rhythm  of  the  lines  in  the  first  quotation  below, 
aside  from  the  way  in  which  they  end.  So  far  as  he  is 
justified  in  doing  this,  it  is  probably  owing  to  the  blend- 
ing in  them  of  double  measures  with  triple  measures  not 
only,  but  also  with  quadruple.  Notice  again  what  is  said 
at  the  middle  of  page  86. 

Stick  close  to  your  desks,  and  never  go  to  sea, 
And  you  all  may  be  rulers  of  the  queen's  navee. 

—Pinafore  :    W.  S.  Gilbert. 

I  du  believe  in  prayer  an'  praise 

To  him — that  hez  the  grantiri 
O'  jobs ;  in  every  thin'  thet  pays  ; 

But  most  of  all  in  cantin' ; 
This  doth  my  cup  with  marcies  fill, 

This  lays  all  thought  o'  sin  to  rest ; 
I  don't  believe  in  princerple, 

But,  oh  !  I  du  in  interest. 

— Biglow  Papers  :  Lowell. 

Notice,  too,  all  the  rhymes  in  this  : 

A  fig  for  their  nonsense  and  chatter  ! — suffice  it,  her 
Charms  will  excuse  one  for  casting  sheep's  eyes  at  her. 

When  a  man  has  decided 

As  Captain  M 'Bride  did, 
And  once  fully  made  up  his  mind  on  the  matter,  he 
Can't  be  too  prompt  in  unmasking  his  battery. 
—  The  Knight  and  the  Lady  ;  Ingoldsby  Legends  :  R,  H.  Bar  ham. 

As  well  as  the  peculiarly  snappish  and  unexpected 
ending  of  the  first,  second,  and  fifth  lines  of  the  follow- 
ing, and  also  the  incongruous  rhyme  of  the  last  line : 

There  was  a  young  woman  named  Hannah 
Who  slipped  on  a  piece  of  banana  ; 


STANZAS  AND    TYPICAL    VERSE-FORMS.  89 

She  cried  out  "  O  my  !  " 
And  more  stars  did  she  spy 
Than  are  seen  in  the  star-spangled  banner. 

— Nonsense  RAymes. 

The  fun  in  this,  too,  is  in  the  incongruity  of  employing 
for  a  rhyme-ending  what,  in  a  properly  written  line, 
would  be  given  no  emphasis  whatever : 

Whene'er  with  haggard  eyes  I  view 
This  dungeon  that  I  'm  rotting  in, 
I  think  of  those  companions  true, 
Who  studied  with  me  at  the  U- 
niversity  of  Gottingen, 
niversity  of  Gottingen. 
—  The  University  of  Gottingen  :  Geo.  Canning. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

ART-METHODS     AS    DEVELOPING    RHYTHM    IN    MUSIC. 

Rhythm  an  End  aside  from  its  Connection  with  Words — Music  as  Devel- 
oped from  Song — Point  of  Separation  between  Speech  and  Song : 
Poetry  and  Music — Musical  Measures  more  Complicated  than  Poetic — 
Ways  of  indicating  Musical  Notes  and  Rests — Measures — Longer  Divi- 
sions Corresponding  to  Poetic  Lines — Developed  as  in  Poetry  from  the 
Art-Methods,  Parallelism,  etc. — The  Motive — Its  Expressional  Import- 
ance— The  Phrase,  Section,  and  Period — Changes  in  the  Period — Unity 
of  Effect  as  Developed  from  these  Rhythmic  Arrangements — Why 
Higher  Works  Find  Few  to  Appreciate  them — Musical  Measures,  Like 
Poetic,  Double  and  Triple — Accent  in  Musical  Measures — Why  Poetic 
Measures  Need  to  be  Distinguished  in  Other  Ways  than  as  Double  and 
Triple — Three  or  Six  Notes  as  used  in  the  Time  usually  Allotted  to 
Two  or  Four — Changes  of  the  Places  of  Accent  in  the  Measures — Pos- 
sibility of  Representing  Different  Effects  of  Movement — Typical  Forms 
of  Rhythm — General  Effect  of  Musical  Rhythm  Depends  on  that  of 
Whole  Phrases,  Sections,  and  Periods — Effects  of  Rhythm  very  Differ- 
ent from  those  of  Harmony — But  the  Development  of  the  One  has 
Accompanied  that  of  the  Other. 

"\  7ERY  slight  consideration  of  rhythm,  even  as  used  by 
the  poets,  will  cause  us  to  recognize  that  it  possesses 
a  charm  wholly  aside  from  that  of  the  intelligible  words 
arranged  in  accordance  with  its  requirements.  What  else 
than  the  effects  of  the  rhythm  of  mere  sound  could  cause 
the  senseless  phrases  of  so  many  of  "  Mother  Goose's 
Melodies  "  to  be  so  popular  with  the  children  ?  What 
else  than  the  rhythm  of  mere  sound — the  recurrence  of 
like  beats  at  like  intervals  of  time — could  cause  the  satis- 

90 


AR T-ME THODS  AS  DE  V ELOPING  RHYTHM  IN  MUSIC.    9 1 

faction  which  those  of  different  nations  seem  to  derive 
from  the  noises  of  gongs,  drums,  castanets,  and  cymbals  ? 
What  but  this  makes  the  negroes  of  the  South  and  the 
settlers  of  the  far  West  clap  their  hands  and  feet  in  uni- 
son, and  seem  to  enjoy  doing  this,  in  order  to  provide 
what  takes  the  place  of  music  for  their  dancers  ?  In  the 
very  rudest  beginnings  of  this  art  therefore,  even  before 
it  has  passed  into  a  form  in  which  it  can  properly  be 
termed  music,  it  is  characterized  by  rhythm. 

In  order  to  recognize  how  natural  it  is  that  rhythm 
should  continue  to  characterize  music  after  being  fully 
developed,  let  us  begin  by  recalling  a  few  of  this  art's 
fundamental  conditions.  In  Chapters  II.  and  VI.  of 
"  Art  in  Theory,"  attention  was  directed  to  the  fact 
that  it  is  through  the  use  of  their  own  voices  and  hands 
that  men  begin  to  gain  personal  experience  in  that  initial 
act  of  all  the  arts,  which  consists  in  putting  together  the 
sights  or  sounds  of  nature.  Probably  no  one  disputes 
this  fact  as  applied  to  music.  "  We  are  justified  in  assum- 
ing," says  Helmholtz,  in  Part  III.,  Chap.  XIX.,  of  "  The 
Sensations  of  Tone  as  a  Physiological  Basis  for  the 
Theory  of  Music,"  "  that  historically  all  music  was  devel- 
oped from  song.  Afterwards  the  power  of  producing 
similar  melodic  effects  was  attained  by  means  of  other 
instruments  which  had  a  quality  of  tone  compounded  in 
a  manner  resembling  that  of  the  human  voice." 

As  music  starts  with  song,  it  starts  with  the  elements 
of  natural  speech.  This,  as  we  have  found,  is  composed 
of  syllables  differing  from  one  another  in  duration,  force, 
quality,  and  pitch.  The  moment  these  possible  differ- 
ences begin  to  be  made  for  their  own  sakes  without  refer- 
ence, or  primary  reference,  to  the  meanings  which  they 
have  in  words,  we  are  in  the  realm  of  music,  which  art,  as 


92      RHY THM  A ND  HA RMON Y  IN  POETRY  A ND  M US1C. 

it  deals  with  sounds  rather  than  with  their  linguistic  sig- 
nificance, tends  to  a  far  more  elaborate  development  of 
them  than  is  found  in  poetry.  In  the  latter  art,  measures 
have  been  shown  to  be  a  result  of  grouping  about  certain 
syllables,  in  pronouncing  which  there  is  a  physiological 
necessity  for  using  an  accent,  certain  other  syllables  that 
need  not  be  accented.  Owing  to  this  necessity,  as  also  to 
the  fact  that  each  syllable  of  speech  has  a  definite  mean- 
ing, and,  therefore,  must  be  uttered  with  sufficient  slow- 
ness to  be  definitely  heard  not  only  but  interpreted  to 
understanding,  poetic  measures  never  contain  more  than 
two,  three,  or  four  separate  sounds.  But  musical  notes, 
even  if  in  song,  are  produced  by  a  sustained  action  of  the 
larynx,  which  does  not  necessitate  anything  even  resem- 
bling the  alternating  accented  and  unaccented  utterances 
of  speech ;  and,  of  course,  the  absence  of  the  same  alter- 
nation is  still  more  marked  in  sounds  produced  upon 
musical  instruments.  Besides  this,  the  meanings  of 
musical  sounds  are  not  dependent,  as  words  are,  upon 
their  individual  formation,  but  upon  their  order  of 
sequence,  and,  therefore,  they  can  be  produced  with  any 
amount  of  rapidity  consistent  with  giving  a  general  im- 
pression of  the  fact  that  they  are  present. 

For  all  the  reasons  just  given,  very  many  more  separate 
sounds  can  be  used  in  a  musical  measure  than  in  a  poetic ; 
and  the  manner,  too,  of  using  and  arranging  them  can  be 
correspondingly  more  complicated.  Poetic  rhythm,  in  fact, 
is  only  a  very  elementary  form  of  the  elaborate  develop- 
ments of  rhythm  which,  when  freed  from  the  limita- 
tions of  accent  and  etymology,  we  find  in  music.  As, 
however,  the  underlying  principles  in  all  metre  are  the 
same,  it  is  not  necessary  here  to  trace  again  the  sources 
of  rhythm  to  the  artistic  tendencies  toward  unity,  order, 


A R  T-ME  THODS  AS  DE  VEL OPING  RH Y THM  IN  M V SIC.    9 3 

comparison,  and  principality,  as  modified  by  variety,  con- 
fusion, contrast,  and  subordination,  and  manifested  in  the 
other  methods  of  composition  connected  with  these  as 
arranged  in  the  chart  on  page  3.  As  musical  rhythm  is  a 
development  of  poetic,  it  will  be  sufficient  for  our  pur- 
pose, with  only  an  occasional  reference  to  particular 
methods,  to  confine  our  attention  to  observing  the  differ- 
ences in  the  factors  of  the  two  arts  which  determine  the 
differences  in  their  rhythmical  manifestations. 

In  order  to  accomplish  our  end,  let  us  begin  by  recall- 
ing— of  course  in  the  interest  of  those  only  who  are  igno- 
rant of  music — a  few  familiar  facts  with  reference  to 
musical  notation.  It  may  be  as  well  to  say  too,  in  pass- 
ing, that  a  study  of  the  methods  underlying  musical 
rhythm  is  important  in  its  bearings  upon  the  subject  of 
proportion,  as  well  as  in  itself.  But  with  reference  to 
music  :  Its  single  sounds  are  called  notes.  In  writing  it, 
these  are  represented  by  characters  that  indicate  the 
length  of  time  in  which  they  are  to  be  sounded.  The  notes 
used  at  present,  beginning  with  the  longest,  are  the  whole 
note  s»  sounded,  as  a  rule,  in  the  same  time  as  two  half 
notes  J  as  four  quarter  notes  J,  as  eight  eight  notes  £,  as 
sixteen  sixteenth  notes  g  and  as  thirty-two  thirty-second 
notes  J.  A  dot  placed  after  a  note  lengthens  it  by  just 
one  half.  For  instance,  a  whole  note  dotted  {&-  )  is 
sounded  for  the  same  time  as  three  half  notes  (f5*  f  j5). 
Corresponding  to  these  notes  in  the  length  of  time  given 
to  them,  are  characters  called  rests,  indicating  that  the 
sound  should  cease  where  they  are  placed.  These,  be- 
ginning with  the  longest,  are  the  whole  rest  —  indicating, 
as  a  rule,  a  pause  of  the  same  length  as  two  half  rests— 
as  four  quarter  rests  I,  as  eight  eight  rests  i,  as  sixteen 
sixteenth  rests  q,  and  as  thirty-two  thirty-second  rests  ^. 


94 


RHYTHM  AND  HARMONY  IN  POETR  Y  AND  MUSIC. 


These  notes  and  rests  correspond,  as  will  be  recognized, 
to  the  syllables  and  undesignated  slight  pauses  after  them 
sometimes  used  in  poetry,  as  illustrated  on  page  41. 

The  measures  in  which  the  notation  is  arranged  are 
separated  by  vertical  lines  termed  bars,  for  which  reason 
the  measures  themselves  also  are  sometimes  termed  bars. 
Placed  on  the  ordinary  musical  staff  of  five  parallel 
lines  indicative  of  pitch,  the  bars  look  thus : 


The  combinations  of  notes  and  rests  in  each  successive 
measure  are  allotted  the  same  amount  of  time,  thus  : 


But  besides  these  smaller  divisions  of  time  corre- 
sponding to  poetic  feet,  we  have  in  music  larger  divisions 
corresponding  to  poetic  lines.  Just  as  in  poetry  too,  the 
lines  are  caused  primarily  by  the  groupings  of  sounds  into 
series  that  can  be  uttered  in  a  single  exhalation,  so  too  in 
music.  In  singing  there  will  always  be  a  tendency  to 
pause  just  as  in  reading ;  and  in  singing  verses,  a  tendency 
to  pause  in  the  same  places  as  in  reading  them.  To  show 
this,  we  have  only  to  recall  any  of  our  common  hymns  or 
songs.  Notice  the  music  printed  near  the  beginning  of 
Chapter  XII.  of  this  volume.  The  only  difference  be- 
tween the  pauses  in  reading  this  and  in  singing  it,  is  that, 
in  the  latter,  they  are  relatively  longer.  It  is  natural  that 
such  should  be  the  case,  because  more  breath  is  expended 
in  producing  singing  tones  than   in   producing   reading 


AR T-ME THODS  AS  DE VELOPING  RHYTHM  IN  MUSIC.   95 


tones,  and  more  time  is  needed  in  singing  in  order  to  in- 
hale a  sufficient  quantity  of  breath. 

Divisions  of  the  kind  caused  by  pausing  to  breathe 
when  singing,  are  found  in  every  form  of  music ;  but 
they  all  probably  originated  in  a  desire  to  make  the  tunes 
and  the  words  of  songs  coincide,  1.  e.f  in  the  same  tend- 
ency that  causes  poetical  verses  consisting  of  clauses  or 
sentences  of  like  length  to  be  placed  between  the  neces- 
sary breathing  places.  Subsequently,  after  the  custom 
had  been  established  of  using  musical  series  of  similar 
length,  these  continued  to  be  factors  of  the  form  irre- 
spective of  other  considerations.  In  modern  music,  pauses 
followed  by  transitions  to  new  groups  of  sounds  are  by 
no  means  always  determined  by  pauses  in  the  sense  and 
transitions  to  new  clauses.  There  are  absurd  examples 
of  an  opposite  method.     Look  at  the  following  : 


First. 


Second. 


*=*: 


i 1 — -1 ■*■    >> 

Just  like  a  poor  pol-,  Just  like  a  poor  pol-,  Just  like  a  poor  pol  •  lut  -  ed  worm. 

In  poetry  we  have  found  the  tendency  first  manifested 
in  measures  and  lines  developing  through  parallelism  into 
the  couplet,  and  through  massing,  interspersion,  complica- 
tion, and  continuity  into  the  stanza.  There  are  corre- 
sponding developments  in  music.  Beginning  with  the 
smallest  of  these,  first  of  all  after  the  measure,  we  have 
what  is  termed  a  motive.  This  is  usually  contained  in  two 
measures,  but  its  chief  function  is  not  to  divide  up  the 
time  but  to  express  or  represent  a  phase  of  feeling  which 
is  a  germ  for  future  musical  unfoldment.  The  motive 
bears  somewhat  the  same  relation  to  a  musical  compo- 
sition as  is  borne  to  a  poetic  by  a  refrain.     This  refrain 


g6     RHYTHM  A  ATD  HA  RMON  Y  IN  POETRY  A  ND  M  USIC. 

is  usually  short,  as  in  the  "  Philip,  my  king,"  of  the  fol- 
lowing, yet  it  might  be  longer,  e.  g.  : 

Look  at  me  with  thy  large  brown  eyes, 

Philip,  my  king. 
For  round  thee  the  purple  shadow  lies 
Of  babyhood's  royal  dignities. 
Lay  on  my  neck  thy  tiny  hand 

With  love's  invisible  sceptre  laden  ; 
I  am  thine  Esther,  to  command, 

Till  thou  shalt  find  thy  queen-handmaiden, 
Philip,  my  king. 

—Philip  My  King  :  D.  M.  Mulock. 

"  The  essential  value  of  a  motive,"  says  W.  S.  B. 
Mathews,  in  his  "  Primer  of  Musical  Forms,"  "  lies  in  its 
rhythm  and  its  general  melodic  figure,  chiefly  in  the  for- 
mer." To  illustrate  this,  he  takes  a  motive  from  Schu- 
mann's Novellette,  and  shows  that  the  melody  of  it  can 


From  Schumann's  Novellette,  Op.  99. 


Sg 


^m 


be  transformed  in  a  variety  of  ways,  changing  it  to  a  dif- 
ferent pitch  in  the  same  key  or  in  another  key,  but 
that  "  so  long  as  the  rhythm  is  preserved  intact  all  the 
transformations  impress  the  ear  as  more  or  less  modified 
repetitions  of  the  original  idea,"  e.g. : 


n,»     a' 

"  '      ^"^ 

&./ — 

-*» 

OS" 

...-^r^-l|    j 

L- — 3 1 — 

3 

«■ . 

3 

3 

r~7"""i  ' 

J_J_ — 1 

'— — 3— — ™ — ' 

a.  , 

/.'*"- 

™ '      -^> 

j%  bJ 

T   ^ 

N*^-  -4 

* 

^'  -    '  '- 

3 

ART-METHODS  AS  DE  VELOPING  RHYTHM  IN  MUSIC.    97 

So,  too,  he  shows  that  the  motive  can  be  modified  with 
an  analogous  effect,  by  "  imitation  in  contrary  motion," 
thus  : 

Motive  from  Beethoven's  Sonata  in  D  min.  Op.  31,  with 
imitation  in  contrary  motion  : 


Motive  from  Schumann's  Humoreske,  Op.  20,  with  imita- 
tion by  inversion  : 


It  seems  hardly  necessary  to  point  out  the  very  great 
importance,  as  thus  interpreted,  of  motives  as  factors  of 
musical  form,  not  only  because  they  constitute  the  bases 
from  which  are  developed  the  most  elaborate  composi- 
tions, but  also,  as  fully  shown  in  "  Poetry  as  a  Representa- 
tive Art,"  Chapter  II.,  because  they  furnish  the  clews  to 
their  meanings.  It  is  well  known  that  every  tune  of  the 
speaking  voice,  i.  e.y  every  spoken  expression,  has  its  own 
peculiar  elocutionary  meaning.  See  "  Poetry  as  a  Repre- 
sentative Art,"  Chapters  VIII.  to  X.,  also  the  whole  of 
"  Music  as  a  Representative  Art,"  at  the  end  of  this 
volume,  and  the  "  Orator's  Manual,"  pages  47  to  74. 
When  the  tune  of  an  expression  is  transferred  to  music, 
as  it  often  can  be,  it  does  not  lose  its  meaning,  and  there 
is  a  sense  in  which  to  develop  it  musically  is  to  develop 
its  meaning  musically.  It  is  the  motive,  therefore,  pri- 
marily, which  renders  it  possible  for  musical  form,  even 
when  at  the  greatest  distance  apparently  from  the  region 
of  definite  ideas,  to  represent  movements  of  thought  or 
of  mental  feeling. 


98      RH YTHM  AND  HARMON Y  IN  POE TRY  AND  MUSIC. 


As  two  measures  usually  constitute  a  motive,  though 
this  term  may  be  given  to  both  a  shorter  and  a  longer 
passage,  two  motives  or  four  measures  usually  constitute 
a  phrase,  two  phrases  a  section,  and  two  sections,  one  of 
which  is  antecedent  and  the  other  consequent,  constitute 
a  period.  These  all  are  shown  together,  as  well  as  the 
process  of  their  development  from  the  motive,  in  the  fol- 
lowing music  adapted  to  our  present  purpose  from  Mr. 
Mathews'  "  Primer  of  Musical  Forms."  The  first  line  be- 
low represents  a  motive  and  a  modification  of  it,  and  the 
next  two  lines  represent  an  entire  period,  as  developed 
from  the  motive  : 


First  appearance,  leading  to  the 
dominant. 


Second  appearance,  leading  to 
tonic. 


P 


3 


Antecedent. 


f 


^ 


Free  imitation. 


Antecedent  section. 


AllO   .  ' 

Phrase. 

1 

Phrase. 

1 

1      p*^ 

foffi*  ^g.go  fcP- 

1 

rcfr*'    ■    1  „i,  ' 

U ^ Of         *     i 

__^ 

v 

Motive  i. 


M.  2.                             M.  i. 
Consequent  section. 


M.  3. 


Phrase. 


Phrase. 


gjg-r-rjig 


S3 


3 


1 f 


J    J    J  !«* 


M.  i. 


M.  2. 


M.  i. '  M.  * 

Op  31  in  G  :   Beethoven. 


The  period  itself  may  be  further  developed  by  being 
shortened,  lengthened,  rendered  complex,  or  joined  with 
others  into  period-groups.  Notice  the  following  periods 
from  the  same  work  : 


ART-METHODS  AS  DEVELOPING  RHYTHM  IN  MUSIC.    99 


Sonata  in  C,  Op.  2,  Beethoven. 


This   grouping   of    consecutive   musical    sounds   into 
measures,  motives,    phrases,   sections,    and   periods,  evi- 


IOO  RHYTHM  AND  HARMONY  IN  POETR  Y  AND  MUSIC. 

dently  corresponds  exactly  to  the  grouping  of  consecu- 
tive poetic  syllables  into  feet,  lines,  couplets,  and  stanzas  ; 
and  it  is  evident  too  that,  in  the  degree  in  which  the 
groups  or  associated  groups  are  of  like  length,  movement, 
or  general  character  of  any  sort,  the  mind  will  perceive 
that  they  compare  and  together  form  a  unity.  Very  lit- 
tle attention  to  the  movements  of  any  of  our  popular 
melodies  will  confirm  this  statement.  Notice  the  music 
on  page  172.  It  may  be  said,  too,  that  with  most  people 
melodies,  or  harmonies,  for  that  matter,  are  popular  to 
almost  the  exact  extent  in  which  likeness  thus  produced 
is  apparent.  All  the  world  is  probably  pleased  to  hear 
well  sung  a  melody  like  "  The  Last  Rose  of  Summer." 
Many,  but  not  so  many,  like  to  hear  series  of  instrumental 
variations  upon  the  same  melody,  provided  this  is  clearly 
recognizable  through  them.  But  a  much  smaller  number 
care  to  listen  to  an  entire  symphony  developed  from 
this  melody  as  a  theme,  in  the  same  way  in  which  so 
much  of  Beethoven's  Symphony  in  C  minor  is  developed 
from  these  four  notes  : 


The  reason  why  the  higher  work  of  music  finds  fewer 
to  appreciate  it,  is  because  (see  "  The  Genesis  of  Art 
Form,"  Chapters  I.,  II.,)  no  art  can  satisfy  one  to  whom 
it  appeals,  except  so  far  as  his  mind  can  compare  its  parts 
together  and  perceive  in  them  how  unlike  complex  wholes 
are  grouped  on  the  principle  of  putting  together  their  like 
partial  effects.  It  takes  a  man  of  education  and  ex- 
perience in  logical  methods  to  recognize  the  unity  of  a 
philosophic  system.  In  the  same  way  it  takes  a  man  of 
education  and  experience  in  musical  methods  to  recognize 


A  R  T-ME  THODS  AS  DE  V ELOPING  RHYTHM  IN  MUSIC.    I O I 

in  what  manner  the  subtile  conditions  of  musical  unity 
are  fulfilled  in  the  symphony. 

But,  to  return  to  a  more  practical  analysis  of  rhythmic 
effects,  we  have  to  notice,  first,  the  influence  of  the  smaller 
divisions  of  time  in  the  musical  measures.  And  here,  as 
in  poetry,  we  find  that  there  are  only  two  elementary 
forms,  namely,  double  and  triple,  but  each  of  these  may 
be  made  up  of  many  different  kinds  of  notes.  For  the 
sake  of  those  unacquainted  with  musical  notation,  it  may 
be  as  well  to  explain  also  that,  in  order  to  indicate  the  kinds 
of  notes  or  of  corresponding  rests  of  which  a  measure  is 
composed,  and  the  number  of  them,  figures  are  placed  at 
the  beginnings  of  a  composition,  signifying  as  follows : 

Double  measures.  Triple  measures. 

In  each  measure  In  each  measure 

two  half  notes 


two  quarter  notes 


-t 1 


^m  m 


2         two  eighth  notes    |    S 


-fS> — <s> — f>- 

I         1         I 

j 

three  quarter  notes 

-f    r    r 

1 

t     i     i 

three  eighth  notes 

-r   g._ p=L 

i— ^ — ^ — ^ — i 

Besides  these  we  may  have  measures  indicated  also  by 
the  fractions,  f  f  f  f  f  -^  etc.  The  measure  §  is  some- 
times represented  thus  g  or  thus  2  ;  and  |-  thus  g,  meaning 
common. 

We  have  found  that  in  poetry,  an  accent,  when  used 
with  one  of  the  syllables  in  each  foot,  gives  character 
to  it,  and  through  it  to  the  rhythm  produced  when 
the  feet  are  sounded  in  succession.  The  same  is  true  in 
music.  As  a  rule,  the  first  note  of  a  measure  is  percept- 
ably  accented.     In  order  to  secure  this  result,  the  first 


102   RHYTHM  AND  HARMONY  IN  POETR  Y  AND  MUSIC, 

full  measure  beginning  a  musical  composition  is  made  to 
begin  with  the  first  accented  note  ;  and  the  notes  preced- 
ing this  are  placed  at  the  end  of  an  incomplete  measure 
with  which  the  composition  opens.  For  instance,  the  fol- 
lowing lines,  if  used  at  the  beginning  of  a  song,  would  be 
arranged  in  music  thus : 


£ 


^3? 


That       danc    -    es 


oft 


as      dance 


can, 


I 


Hang    -    ing 


light 


and       hang  -  ing 


high, 


P 


£ 


» 


» 


On      the       top    -     most    twig       that   looks     up  at       the      sky. 

It  might  simplify  the  subject  of  poetical  rhythm  if  the 
foot  in  it  were  treated  in  the  same  way  as  the  musical 
measure,  i.  e.,  always  supposed  to  be  begun  with  the  ac- 
cented syllable.  In  this  case  we  should  have  only  two  kinds 
of  feet,  double  and  triple,  of  which  all  other  kinds  would 
be  clearly  recognized  to  be  modifications.  But  there  are 
objections  to  this  method  of  treatment.  The  significance 
of  the  metres,  as  shown  in  the  eighth  and  ninth  chapters 
of  "  Poetry  as  a  Representative  Art,"  is  determined 
mainly  by  the  way  in  which — whether  with  an  accented 
or  an  unaccented  syllable — a  line  ends.  Hence,  irrespec- 
tive of  the  way  in  which  the  line  begins,  an  initial  meas- 
ure at  its  end  means  something  entirely  different  from  a 
terminal  measure.  It  seems  better,  therefore,  to  preserve 
the  distinction  between  the  two,  and  not  to  say,  as  other- 
wise we  should  be  forced  to  do,  that,  with  exception  of 
the  syllables  with  which  lines  start  or  end,  both  measures 


ART-METHODS  AS  DE  VELOPJNG  RHYTHM  IN  MUSIC.    103 


are  the  same.  Analysis  is  always  wise  when  it  distin- 
guishes between  factors  which  for  the  sake  of  clearness  of 
thought  need  to  be  distinguished.  As  shown  in  Chapter 
VI.  of  "  Poetry  as  a  Representative  Art,"  the  eight 
metres  described  in  Chapter  III.  of  this  essay  all  have 
different  effects  upon  the  mind.  For  this  reason  it  is  well 
not  to  confound  them. 

In  arranging  notes  in  measures,  it  is  sometimes  con- 
venient, and  always  allowable,  to  use  three  in  the  time 
allotted,  as  a  rule,  to  two.  For  instance,  in  f  time  we  may 
fill  the  measure  with  three  instead  of  two  fourth  notes  or 
with  six  instead  of  four  eighth  notes.  In  such  cases,  the 
departure  from  the  rule  is  indicated  by  the  use  of  a  brace, 
with  which  is  placed  a  figure  3,  if  these  notes  be  used  for 
two,  or  a  6  if  they  be  used  for  four.  It  must  be  remem- 
bered, however,  that  in  these  cases  the  general  time  does 
not  change.  The  three  notes  are  sounded  in  precisely 
the  same  time  usually  given  to  two,  e.  g.  : 

3  3  3  6 


■^mm 


For  the  sake  of  variety,  as  fulfilled  in  the  methods  of 
alteration  and  inter spersion,  musical  like  poetical  accent  is 
sometimes  omitted  or  shifted  from  the  first  note  of  the 
measure.  Sometimes,  too,  when  the  measures  are  long 
and  the  movement  is  rapid,  there  is  more  than  one  accent 
in  them,  as  in  the  following  where  a  less  emphatic  accent 
is  given  to  the  first  of  each  of  the  three  short  notes  under 
the  braces : 


It  is  evident  from  what  has  been  said  that  the  oppor- 
tunities for  changing  the  general  effect  of  the  movement 


104  RHYTHM  AND  HARMONY  IN  POETR  Y  AND  MUSIC. 

through  changing  the  rhythm,  are  in  music  as  in  poetry 
practically  unlimited.  Certain  kinds  of  rhythm,  like  the 
following  taken  from  Mr.  Mathew's  "  Primer  of  Musical 
Forms,"  have  been  used  so  often  that  they  have  become 
typical  of  large  classes,  but  there  is  nothing  in  the  nature 
of  rhythm  itself  to  prevent  these  classes  from  being  almost 
infinitely  multiplied. 


Polonaise 


March 


imnn\mnn\ 

**.  1  JTJ]  I  JTjTj  I 

j  jij  jij  jij  j 

Waltz:  (Slow)      1    J     J     j  I  J.     J     J     J  |  J. 

M  1  J  J  J  I  J  J  J  I 

(Moderate)     I    J~]     Jj     Jj  I  J     J     J   I 

J  JU  JU  J  I  J  Jl 

1 J  J  J I  J.  JTj  I 

i  rrm  \j.m\ 


Galop 


Bolero 


Also  sometimes  the  same  as  the  Polonaise  given  above. 
Presto. 
Tarantelle 


j  ^j  j\mm 


"  Pieces  bearing  these  names  are  usually  either  in  the  applied  song-form 
somewhat  modified,  or  in  a  rondo  form.  The  march,  galop,  and  polka  are 
almost  always  song-forms  with  trio.     Waltzes  sometimes  come  in  this  form, 


AR  T-ME  THODS  AS  DE  VEL  OPING  RH  YTHM  IN  MUSIC.    1 05 

especially  what  are  called  '  Salon  Valses '  or  drawing-room  waltzes. 
Dancing  waltzes  are  commonly  in  suites.  They  are  potpourris,  consisting 
of  from  five  to  seven  waltzes  of  two  periods  each.  The  work  is  commonly 
preceded  by  an  introduction,  and  concluded  with  a  final  in  which  the  prom- 
inent motives  already  used  are  somewhat  elaborated,  or  at  least  recapitu- 
lated. Polonaises  and  Tarantelles  are  generally  song-forms  with  trio. 
Sometimes,  however,  the  form  is  much  less  regular." 

Beside  the  shorter  divisions  of  time,  as  in  measures, 
motives,  and  phrases,  we  have  noticed  that  the  rhythm  of 
music,  as  of  poetry,  depends  upon  longer  divisions  as  in 
phrases,  sections,  and  periods.  In  accordance  with  this, 
observe  the  close  resemblance  between  the  typical  rhythm 
produced  by  the  four  lines  of  a  poetic  stanza  and  by  the 
following,  which  is  taken  from  Weber's  "  Theory  of  Musi- 
cal Education." 


ircrrcrirrr^rcrrcrirrtcrrcrirrr^rcrrrir- 

It  hardly  needs  to  be  added  now  that  these  effects  as 
thus  produced  are  very  different  from  those  of  musical 
melody  or  harmony.  Savages  and  young  children  with 
no  musical  training,  and  their  elders  who  have  no  ability 
to  appreciate  changes  in  quality  or  pitch,  all  show  appre- 
ciation of  rhythm.  Nothing  could  be  more  perfect  than 
that  in  the  poetry  of  Pope,  Scott,  or  Byron.  Yet  it  is 
said  that  neither  of  these  was  able  to  distinguish  one 
tune  from  another.  So  with  many  dancers.  One  need 
not  be  able  to  follow  a  tune  as  a  tune,  in  order  to  keep 
time  to  its  rhythm. 

It  is  not  strange,  therefore,  to  find  rhythm,  as  shown  both 
by  historical  records  and  by  existing  conditions  of  savage 
nations,  antedating  all  other  musical  developments.  But 
a  decided  advance  in  its  possibilities  and  in  the  methods 


106  RHYTHM  AND  HARMONY  IN  POETRY  AND  MUSIC. 

of  maintaining  them  amid  complicated  movements  has 
been  necessitated  by  every  advance  in  the  use  of  har- 
mony. Especially  was  this  true  at  the  time  of  the  rise 
of  the  polyphonic  music  of  the  middle  ages  (see  pages 
1 89-191),  in  which  two  or  three  separate  melodies  were 
sung  at  one  and  the  same  time.  In  many  places  in 
this  music  a  long  note  of  one  melody  had  to  be  given  the 
same  time  as  many  short  notes  of  another  melody.  To 
provide  for  effects  of  this  kind  required  more  elabor- 
ate measurements  of  notes  and  determinations  of  the 
relations  between  them  than  had  previously  existed ;  and 
still  another  advance  was  necessitated  when  the  poly- 
phonic music  gave  way  to  the  elaborate  systems  of 
harmony  of  more  recent  times.  The  requirements  of 
these,  however,  have  long  been  met,  and  probably  there 
will  never  be  any  practical  demands  which  our  present 
methods  cannot  satisfy. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

ART-METHODS  OF  UNITY,  ORDER,  COMPARISON,  PRINCI- 
PALITY,   ETC.,   AS   DEVELOPING  POETIC   HARMONY. 

The  Terms  Tone  and  Color  are  Used  in  both  the  Arts  of  Sound  and  of  Sight — 
Harmony  a  Complex  Effect  but  a  Unity — The  Mind  Conscious  of  the  Divi- 
sions of  Time  Represented  in  Rhythm  ;  Not  Conscious  of  those  of  Vibra- 
tions Represented  in  Harmony — In  the  Recognition  of  which,  the  Ear 
and  Eye  Act  Similarly — The  Scientific  Knowledge  of  the  Origin  of  Tone 
and  Color  did  not  Precede  the  Artistic  Use  of  Them — Analogies  Be- 
tween Poetry  and  Painting  or  Sculpture — Also  Between  Architecture 
and  Music — Poetic  Effects  Dependent  on  Laws  of  Sound — Examples 
of  Verse  Containing  too  Much  Variety  of  Tone — Necessity  for  Unity 
of  Tone-Effects — Dependent  Upon  the  Order  of  the  Syllables — Eu- 
phony— Vowel  and  Consonant-Sounds  Easy  to  Pronounce — Examples 
of  Euphonious  Words  and  Poems — If  Difficult  to  Pronounce,  Illustrate 
Artistic  Confusion — Euphony  Leading  to  Use  of  Like  Sounds  Accord- 
ing to  Art-Method  of  Comparison — Accent  as  Necessitating  Art- 
Methods  of  Counteraction,  Contrast,  Complement — Further  Exemplifi- 
cation— Consecutive  Tones  should  not  be  as  Different  as  Possible — 
But  should  not  be  Alike  on  Both  Accented  and  Unaccented  Syllables 
— Accented  Tones  can  be  Repeated  According  to  Art-Methods  of 
Principality,  but  Subordination  and  Balance  Require  the  Accented 
Tones  to  Differ  from  the  Unaccented. 

A  S  primarily  used,  the  term  tone  is  applied  to  only  cer- 
tain effects  of  sound,  and  the  term  color  to  only 
certain  effects  of  sight.  But  in  a  secondary,  and,  at  the 
beginning,  a  metaphorical  sense,  the  term  tone  is  applied 
also,  though  in  a  restricted  way,  to  certain  effects  of  color, 
and  the  term  color  to  certain  effects  of  tone.  This  inter- 
change of  terms  shows  that  men  in  general  recognize, 

107 


108  RHYTHM  AND  HARMONY  IN  POETR  Y  AND  MUSIC. 

though  often  in  only  a  vague  way,  the  existence  of  those 
analogies  between  effects  appealing  to  the  ear  and  to  the 
eye,  which  have  been  brought  out  in  other  volumes  of  this 
series,  especially  in  "  The  Genesis  of  Art-Form."  The  same 
fact  is  also  shown  by  the  use  in  both  classes  of  art  of 
terms  like  pitch,  key,  and  harmony.  What  these  terms 
mean,  will  be  unfolded  as  we  go  on. 

In  explaining  rhythm,  it  was  found  necessary  to  con- 
sider under  this  one  head  the  combined  results  of  duration 
and  force.  In  a  future  volume,  also,  in  explaining  pro- 
portion, it  will  be  found  necessary  to  consider  similarly 
the  combined  results  of  extension  and  light  and  shade.  In 
an  analogous  way,  under  the  one  head  of  tone  or  color, 
one  must  consider  the  combined  results  of  force,  quality, 
and  pitch,  in  the  arts  of  sound,  and  of  light  and  shade, 
and  the  different  degrees  and  kinds  of  hue  in  the  arts  of 
sight.  Harmony,  as  produced  either  by  tone  or  color,  is 
a  complex  effect  which,  however,  is  in  itself  a  unity,  and, 
therefore,  can  be  best  interpreted  by  treating  it  as  a  unity, 
without  analyzing  it  into  its  elements,  except  so  far  as 
may  be  necessary  in  order  to  render  the  combined  whole 
more  intelligible. 

That  which  separates  the  phenomena  of  rhythm  and,  as 
will  be  shown  in  another  place,  of  proportion  from  those 
of  harmony  is  the  fact  that,  of  the  divisions  of  time  or  of 
space  respectively  causing  effects  of  rhythm  and  proportion, 
the  mind  is  directly  conscious;  whereas  of  the  divisions 
causing  the  effects  of  harmony,  the  mind  is  not  conscious, 
and  has  come  to  know  of  them  only  indirectly,  as  a  result 
of  the  investigations  of  science.  These  investigations 
have  discovered  that,  back  of  the  outer  ear  which  is 
shaped  so  as  to  collect  the  sound,  and  back  of  the  drum 
too,  is  an  inner  ear  filled  with  a  pellucid  fluid  in  which 


ART-ME THODS  AS  DE  VELOPING  POE TIC  HARMON Y.    1 09 

float  the  extremities  of  the  acoustic  nerve.  Under  the 
influence  of  impulses  of  sound  from  without,  the  drum  is 
made  to  vibrate.  Its  vibrations  are  communicated  to  the 
fluid  behind  it,  and,  through  this,  they  set  into  motion  one 
or  more  of  the  delicate  organs  of  sensation — minute  pendu- 
lous rods  and  also  ossicles  that  rub  together — with  which 
the  acoustic  nerve  terminates,  each  of  these  organs  being 
supposed  to  be  differently  affected  by  a  vibration  of  a 
different  rate.  It  is  only  when  the  vibrations  are  very  fre- 
quent— some  say  sixteen  in  a  second  of  time — that  the  ear 
derives  from  them  the  impression  of  any  sound  whatever. 
As  they  increase  in  frequency,  and,  at  the  same  time, 
lessen  in  size,  the  sound  becomes  higher  in  pitch,  its 
mere  loudness  depending  not  on  the  relative  rate  of 
vibrations,  but  upon  the  violence  of  the  stroke  produc- 
ing them.  When  at  last,  the  vibrations  become  too  fre- 
quent for  the  ear  to  be  aware  of  them — as  when  there  are 
forty  thousand  of  them,  as  some  say,  in  a  second  of 
time — the  effect  upon  the  ear  is  the  same  as  if  there  were 
no  vibrations  at  all,  and  the  sensation  of  sound  is  conveyed 
no  longer. 

Very  similar  to  the  operations  that  take  place  in  the 
ear,  when  recognizing  pitch,  are  those  that  take  place  in 
the  eye  when  recognizing  color.  Passing  through  the 
pupil  of  the  outer  eye  and  the  transparent  crystalline  lens 
behind  it,  rays  from  objects  of  sight  reach  the  vitreous 
humor  which  extends  to  the  retina,  an  expansion  of  the 
optic  nerve.  The  effect  of  color  in  this  is  considered  to 
be  a  result — but  exactly  how  produced  scientists  are  not 
as  yet  agreed — of  certain  vibrations  of  the  organism.  As 
in  the  case  of  sound,  too,  less  frequent  vibrations  cause 
one  hue  and  more  frequent  vibrations  cause  another. 

The  discovery  of  these  facts,  however,  with  the  unfold- 


1 10    RHYTHM  AND  HARMONY  IN  POETR  Y  AND  MUSIC. 

ing  from  them  of  important  inferences,  which  will  be 
considered  hereafter,  did  not  precede  the  artistic  develop- 
ments of  the  possibilities  of  sound  or  of  sight.  Judging 
only  by  effects,  in  spite  of  ignorance  of  the  causes  under- 
lying them,  the  artists  had  already  worked  for  centuries 
in  both  departments,  before  any  physiological  scientist 
was  able  even  to  suggest  why  their  methods  were  in 
the  main  correct.  Let  us  follow  the  same  order  here. 
Let  us  start,  as  our  ancestors  did,  with  the  effects  them- 
selves, and  notice  how,  in  spite  of  many  limitations,  these 
ancient  artists,  with  only  their  sensations  to  guide  them, 
constructed  those  harmonic  systems  of  tone  and  of  color, 
of  which  modern  science  alone  has  discovered  the  causes. 
These  causes,  as  will  be  shown  presently,  are  the  same  as 
those  that  underlie  all  the  developments  of  form  in  art, 
being  all  traceable  to  the  satisfaction  which,  for  reasons 
unfolded  in  "  The  Genesis  of  Art-Form,"  the  mind  derives 
from  being  able,  amid  the  variety  and  complexity  of  nature, 
to  form  a  conception  of  unity,  and,  through  the  general 
method  of  comparison,  to  embody  this  conception  in  a 
product  (see  the  chart  on  page  3). 

Poetry  bears  the  same  relation  to  the  arts  of  sound  that 
painting  and  sculpture  bear  to  those  of  sight.  All  three 
are  largely  imitative.  Poetry  reproduces  in  an  artistic 
guise  what  might  be  heard  in  nature,  if  a  man  were  telling 
a  story,  or  if  several  men  were  conversing.  Painting  and 
sculpture  reproduce  in  an  artistic  guise  what  might  be  seen 
in  nature.  For  this  reason  it  is  possible  to  be  interested, 
though  not  artistically  interested,  in  the  products  of  each 
of  these  arts,  on  account  merely  of  that  which  they  portray, 
irrespective  of  the  style  or  form  in  which  they  portray  it. 
But  the  converse  is  true  with  reference  to  music  and  archi- 
tecture.    These  arts  are  only  slightly  imitative,  and  if 


AR  T-ME  THODS  AS  DE  VEL  OPING  FOE  TIC  HARMON  Y.    Ill 

we  be  interested  in  them  at  all,  it  is  owing  almost  entirely 
to  their  style  or  form.  But  we  must  not  make  the  mis- 
take of  inferring  from  this  fact  that  style  or  form  is  unim- 
portant in  the  former  arts  ;  in  other  words,  that  the  laws 
of  tone  as  tone  must  not  be  fulfilled  in  poetry,  or  of  color 
as  color  in  painting. 

It  is  chiefly  with  reference  to  poetry  that  this  mistake 
is  likely  to  be  made.  Admirers  of  Whitman  might  possi- 
bly— were  they  logical,  which,  fortunately,  they  are  not — 
be  ready  to  deny  that  the  laws  of  sound  apply  to  poetry 
in  the  same  sense  as  to  music.  And  yet  they  are  as  im- 
perative in  the  one  art  as  in  the  other,  though,  of  course, 
in  a  different  degree  and  way. 

In  order  to  recognize  this,  let  us  read  over  a  few  pas- 
sages in  which  apparently  no  attempt  has  been  made  to 
arrange  the  successions  of  sounds.  There  is  no  necessity 
of  arguing  that  in  the  verses  following  there  is  a  lack  of 
effects  which  in  certain  other  compositions  cause  one 
sound  to  flow  into  another  in  such  a  way  that  whole 
series  of  sounds  seem  to  be  united,  or  to  form  a  unity. 
In  other  words,  these  verses  manifest  too  great  phonetic 
variety  of  a  kind  which,  while  not  objectionable  in  prose, 
we  feel  to  be  inconsistent  with  those  results  of  taste  and 
care  and  skill,  which  are  demanded  by  the  artistic 
character   of   poetry : 

And  they  thought  of  Alexander 
He,  who  o'er  the  world  once  triumphed, 
And  then  wept  because  another 
Was  not  found  for  him  to  conquer, 
Came  and  summoned  its  surrender, 
And  how  it  without  a  struggle 
Opened  quick  its  gates  unto  him. 
O  how  true  't  is  that  transgressors 
Find  the  ways  of  sin  oppressive 


1 1 2   RHYTHM  AND  HARMONY  IN  POP  TR  V  AND  MUSIC. 

To  themselves  and  to  their  children  ! 
Where  was  once  proud  Sidon's  city, 
Full  of  wealth  and  full  of  beauty, 
With  its  teeming  population 
And  its  harbors  full  of  shipping, 
Now,  alas,  are  wretched  hovels 
Built  of  mud  and  ancient  ruins. 

— Sketches  of  Palestine  :  E.  P.  Hammond. 

A  strange  belief  that  leaned  its  idiot  back 

On  folly's  topmost  twig — belief  that  God 

Most  wise,  had  made  a  world,  had  creatures  made 

Beneath  His  care  to  govern  and  protect, 

Devoured  its  thousands.     Reason,  not  the  true 

Learned,  deep,  sober,  comprehensive,  sound, 

But  bigoted,  one-eyed,  short-sighted  Reason, 

Most  zealous,  and,  sometimes  no  doubt  sincere, 

Devoured  its  thousands.     Vanity  to  be 

Renowned  for  creed  excentrical,  devoured 

Its  thousands  :  but  a  lazy,  corpulent 

And  over-credulous  faith,  that  leaned  on  all 

It  met,  nor  asked  if  't  was  a  reed  or  oak, 

Stepped  on  :  but  never  earnestly  inquired 

Whether  to  Heaven  or  Hell  the  journey  led. 

—  The  Course  of  Time,  ii.  :  Pollock. 

Tho'  I  have  lost 
Much  lustre  of  my  native  brightness,  lost 
To  be  beloved  of  God,  I  have  not  lost 
To  love,  at  least  contemplate  and  admire 
What  I  see  excellent  in  good,  or  fair, 
Or  virtuous  :  I  should  so  have  lost  all  sense. 

— Paradise  Regained  :  Milton. 


This  outward-sainted  deputy 
Whose  settled  visage  and  deliberate  word 
Nips  youth  i'  the  head  and  follies  doth  enmew 
As  falcon  doth  the  fowl, — is  yet  a  devil. 

— Measure  for  Measure,  iii.,  I  :   Shakespeare. 


A R  T-ME  THOD SASDE  VEL OPING  P OE TIC  HA RMON  Y.    1 1 3 

Not  all,  but  some  of  these  quotations  show  us  that 
poetic  effect  is  not  dependent  wholly  upon  the  presence 
or  absence  of  poetic  thought.  On  the  contrary,  that 
which  in  verse  charms  the  ear,  fixes  attention,  remains  in 
memory,  and  passes  into  a  precept  or  proverb,  is  some- 
times dependent  for  its  popularity  almost  entirely  upon 
consecutive  effects  of  sound,  so  arranged  as  to  flow  into 
one  another  and  together  form  a  unity.  Certainly,  in 
many  cases,  the  same  thought,  expressed  in  sounds  less 
satisfactorily  arranged,  would  not  be  remembered  or 
repeated.     Would  not  this  be  true  of  the  following? 

Breathes  there  a  man  with  soul  so  dead 
Who  never  to  himself  hath  said 
This  is  my  own,  my  native  land. 

— Lay  of  the  Last  Minstrel,  vi.  :    Scott. 

Safe  bind,  safe  find. 
— Five  Hundred  Points  of  Good  Husbandry  :   Tusser. 

The  streak  of  silver  sea  (*.  e.,  the  English  Channel). 

— Edinburgh  Review  :    Gladstone. 

As  true  as  steel. 

— Romeo  and  Juliet,  ii.,  4  :   Shakespeare. 

The  forest  primeval. 

— Evangeline  :  Longfellow. 

From  grave  to  gay,  from  lively  to  severe. 

— Essay  on  Man,  iv.  :    Pope. 

And  storied  windows,  richly  dight, 
Casting  a  dim,  religious  light. 

— II  Penseroso  ;  Milton. 

I  have  thee  on  the  hip. 

— Merchant  of  Venice,  iv.,  1  :   Shakespeare. 

Othello's  occupation  's  gone. 

— Othello,  hi.,  3  :  Idem. 


1 14  RHYTHM  AND  HARMONY  IN  POETR  Y  AND  MUSIC. 

Who  would  quote  any  of  the  four  latter  had  they  been 
worded  thus?: 

From  serious  to  joyful,  from  animated  to  stern. 
Casting  a  dim,  sacred  light. 
I  have  you  on  the  shoulder. 
Othello's  work  's  gone. 

It  is  not  true,  therefore,  that,  in  arranging  words,  all 
that  is  necessary  is  to  put  them  together  grammat- 
ically, and  in  such  a  way  as  to  indicate  their  sense.  To 
produce  satisfactory  poetic  effects  either  upon  the  mind 
or  ear,  they  must  be  arranged  so  that  their  sounds  shall 
occur  in  a  certain  order  (see  page  3).  To  say  no  more, 
some  successions  of  vowels  and  consonants  are  difficult 
to  pronounce,  e.  g.,  "  Thou  shouldst  stand  still," 
"  Heaven's  thought-forged  forms,"  "  Condensed  to  match 
children's  comprehension."  As  a  rule,  men  like  to  avoid 
difficulties.  For  this  reason,  when  nothing  in  the  sense 
calls  for  a  different  treatment,  one  prefers  to  have  words 
so  arranged  that  they  can  be  uttered  easily  and  rapidly. 
That  is  to  say,  he  prefers  the  effect  which  is  technically 
termed  euphony.*  In  fact,  without  being  clearly  aware 
why  he  prefers  this,  his  utterances  often  tend  toward  it 

*  The  rhetorical  fault  Euphuism  is  named  after  the  hero  of  Lyly's 
"  Euphues,"  which  was  written  in  an  alliterative  and  assonant  style.  Here 
is  an  extract  from  it  : 

"  There  is  no  privilege  that  needeth  a  /ardon,  neither  is  there  any  remis- 
sion to  be  asked,  where  a  commission  is  granted.  I  speake  this,  gentlemen, 
not  to  excuse  the  c/fence  which  was  taken,  but  to  offer  a  Offence  where  I  was 
mistaken.  A  cleare  conscience  is  a  sure  card  ;  truth  hath  the  prerogative  to 
speake  with  /lainnesse,  and  the  modesty  to  heare  with  /atience. —  The 
Writer  ;  G.  L.  Raymond  and  G.  P.   Wheeler. 


AR T-ME THODS  AS  DE  VELOPING  POE TIC  HARMONY.    1 1 5 

instinctively  and  unconsciously.  How  many  of  the  news- 
boys in  our  streets  know  why,  almost  invariably,  all  of 
them  call  out  the  names  of  the  newspapers  in  the  same 
order?  Yet  they  do  this,  and  the  order  is  the  one  in 
which  the  names  can  be  the  most  easily  and  rapidly 
pronounced. 

With  reference  to  this  subject  it  may  be  said  that,  as  a 
rule,  the  vowels  a,  e,  i,  0,  u,  and  the  semi-vowels,  y,  w,  I, 
and  the  nasals  (m,  n,)  and  most  of  the  sonant  consonants 
(v,  z,j,  d,  b),  when  combined  with  other  consonants,  are 
easy  to  pronounce;  whereas  the  consonants,  h,  s,  f,  k,  t, 
p,  ch,  sh,  th,  especially  when  combined  with  one  another 
or  with  other  consonants,  are  difficult  to  pronounce.  No- 
tice the  euphony  of  the  words  Albion,  Erin,  Caledonia, 
Columbia,  demeanor,  bridal,  wonderful,  ^Eolian,  merrily, 
lovely,  silvery,  Clarabel,  jollity. 

Also  of  those — with  exception  of  the  very  unmusical  suc- 
cessive ^-sounds  in  "  uplands  seen" — in  this  "  Nonsense 
Rhyme" : 

How  evanescent  and  marine 
Are  thy  chaotic  uplands  seen, 

Oh,  ever  sublapsarian  moon  ; 
A  thousand  viaducts  of  light 
Were  not  so  spherically  bright, 
Or  ventilated  half  so  soon. 

And  in  the  following,  in  which  the  words  are  selected, 
almost  as  evidently  as  in  the  last,  on  account  of  their 
sounds : 

From  Archosia,  from  Candaor  east, 
From  Margiana,  to  the  Hyrcanian  cliffs 
Of  Caucasus,  and  dark  Iberian  dales  ; 
From  Atropatia,  and  the  neighboring  plains 
Of  Adiabene,  Media,  and  the  south 
Of  Susiana,  to  Belsara's  haven. 

— Paradise  Regained,  3  :  Milton. 


1 1 6  RHYTHM  AND  HARMONY  IN  POETR  Y  AND  MUSIC. 

Notice  also  the  lack  of  euphony  in  these :  barefaced- 
ness,  inextricable,  soothedst,  stretched,  pledged,  adjudged, 
struggled,  strengthened,  disrespect. 

It  is  important,  however,  in  this  connection,  to  bear  in 
mind  that  behind  these  effects  of  sound  there  may  be 
reasons  in  the  sense.  As  Alexander  Bain  says  in  his 
"Rhetoric":  "  What  is  hard  to  pronounce  is  not  only 
disagreeable  in  the  act  of  pronunciation,  but  also  disa- 
greeable to  hear;  for  in  listening  to  speech  we  cannot 
help  having  present  to  our  mind  the  way  that  the  words 
would  affect  our  organs,  if  we  had  to  utter  them  our- 
selves. Even  in  reading  without  utterance  aloud,  we 
have  a  sense  of  the  articulate  flow  of  the  voice  and  to  the 
ear."  This  truth  applies,  of  course,  not  only  to  that 
which  is  euphonious,  but  to  that  which  is  not  so.  Ac- 
cordingly, when  for  appropriate  representation,  the 
thought  demands  a  suggestion  of  difficulty,  nothing  can 
be  more  expressive  than  phrases  like  the  following,  in 
which,  therefore,  we  have  illustrations  of  an  artistic  use 
of  phonetic  variety  in  the  sense  of  confusion  as  distin- 
guished from  order  (see  page  3). 

And  strains  from  hard  bound  brains  eight  lines  a  year. 

— Epistle  to  Arbuthnot  :  Pope. 

Staring  full  ghastly  like  a  strangled  man  ; 

His  hair  upreared,  his  nostrils  stretched  with  struggling  ; 

His  hands  abroad  displayed,  as  one  that  grasp'd 

And  tugg'd  for  life,  and  was  by  strength  subdued. 

Look  !  on  the  sheets  his  hair,  you  see,  is  sticking  ; 

His  well-proportioned  beard  made  rough  and  rugged. 

— 2  Henry  VI,  iii.,  2  :  Shakespeare. 

With  staring  countenance  stern,  as  one  astown'd, 
And  staggering  steps,  to  weet  what  sudden  stour 
Had  wrought  that  horror  strange. 

— Faerie  Queene,  i.,  8,  5  :   Spenser. 


AR  T-ME  THODS  ASDE  VELOPING  POE  TIC  HARMON  Y.    1 1 7 

With  complicated  monsters,  head  and  tail, 
Scorpion  and  asp,  and  amphisbaena  dire, 
Cerastes  horn'd,  hydrus,  and  ellops  drear, 
And  dipsas  ;  not  so  thick  swarmed  once  the  soil 
Bedropped  with  blood  of  Gorgon,  or  the  isle 
Ophiusa. 

— Paradise  Lost,  10  :  Milton. 

Now  let  us  start  with  this  fact  that  all  acknowledge 
with  reference  to  ease  and  difficulty  in  the  utterance  of 
words,  and  trace  its  development.  It  is  a  principle  readily 
recognized  that  if  we  have  placed  the  organs  of  speech 
into  position  for  the  purpose  of  uttering  one  sound,  it 
requires  less  expenditure  of  effort  to  repeat  this  sound 
than  to  put  them  into  another  position  for  the  purpose 
of  uttering  another  sound.  To  go  no  further,  this  princi- 
ple applied  to  practice  would  seem  to  lead,  in  accordance 
with  the  method  of  comparison,  to  the  use  in  succession  of 
like  sounds.  But  is  it  true  that  this  use  of  sounds  is 
invariably  euphonious  ?  Are  series  of  words  like  the  fol- 
lowing easy  to  pronounce? — "  Best  station,"  "  high-arched 
church."  Even  in  the  case  of  syllables  that,  considered 
separately,  are  easy  to  pronounce, — are  they  so  when  we 
have  a  series  of  them,  as  in  "  We  met  in  an  enormous 
car    ? 

These  illustrations  of  themselves  are  enough  to  show 
us  that  we  cannot,  without  some  important  modification, 
frame  any  rule  to  the  effect  that  the  uttering  in  succes- 
sion of  like  sounds  is  invariably  euphonious.  But  should 
we,  therefore,  draw  the  inference,  as  some  do,  that  the 
opposite  is  true  ;  in  other  words,  that  in  poetry  the  repe- 
tition of  similar  sounds  is  not  euphonious,  and  that  here 
is  a  case  in  which  the  principle  of  putting  like  effects  with 
like  does  not  apply?  Before  drawing  this  conclusion,  let 
us,  at  least,  look  farther  into  the  subject.     What  is  the 


1 1 8   RHYTHM  AND  HARMON  Y  IN  FOE  TRY  AND  MUSIC. 

real  explanation  of  the  difficulty  of  pronouncing  in  suc- 
cession the  syllables  in  the  phrases  just  quoted  ? — It  is  the 
fact  that  they  are  used  in  an  accented  and  also  in  an 
unaccented  syllable  immediately  following  it.  This 
causes  difficulty,  because  the  vocal  organs  are  so  formed 
that  their  positions  and  actions  in  an  accented  and  in  an 
unaccented  utterance  are  different.  In  other  words,  these 
two  forms  of  utterance  naturally  counteract  each  other 
(see  page  3).  Moreover,  the  nature  of  the  organs  is  such 
that  ease  of  utterance  requires  that  both  forms  should  be 
present,  and  used  in  alternation.  One  cannot  apply  to 
consecutive  syllables  without  restriction,  therefore,  this 
principle  of  comparison.  Unaccented  syllables  must  con- 
trast with  the  accented  ones,  and  in  such  a  way  too  as  to 
complement  them  (see  page  3).  But  if  this  requirement  be 
regarded,  like  sounds  repeated  only  on  accented  or  only 
on  unaccented  syllables,  except  in  the  sense  in  which  all 
forms  of  repetition  may  become  monotonous  and  tire- 
some, are  not  open  to  the  objection  urged.  They  do  not 
render  utterance  more  difficult,  as  suggested  above,  but, 
on  the  contrary,  decidedly  more  easy ;  e.  g.,  "  When  in  any 
den  of  many  men  of  many  minds."  "All  they  thought 
of  all  the  order  or  the  thought  of  all  the  hall  was  all 
appalling."  "  Jumping,  jarring,  running,  gunning,  falling, 
crawling,  lying,  flying." 

Intentional,  and,  as  all  admit,  artistic,  repetitions  of 
the  sounds  of  accented  syllables  in  succeeding  unaccented 
ones,  are  best  explained  in  accordance  with  this  principle. 
Take  the  following : 

The  league-long  roller  thundering  on  the  reef. 

— Enoch  Arden  :  Tennyson. 

When  this   is  properly  read  (see  page  41),  as  much 


AR T-ME  THODS  AS  DE  V ELOPING  POE TIC  HA RMON Y.    1 1 9 

time  is  given  to  league  and  also  to  long  as  to  a  whole  foot 
of  two  syllables.  In  other  words,  the  voice  after  both 
league  and  long  pauses  a  sufficient  time  for  the  pronuncia- 
tion of  an  unaccented  syllable.  This  is  the  artistic  justi- 
fication for  the  two  consecutive  syllables,  each  beginning 
with  an  /.  The  poet  wishes  to  represent  something  that 
moves  slowly,  and  to  do  this  he  uses  words  that  cannot 
well  be  read  in  succession  except  by  uttering  them  slowly, 
the  general  effect  being  that  of  accented  syllables  followed 
by  pauses  representative  of  unaccented  syllables,  thus : 

The  league  (followed  by  an  unaccented  syllable)  long  (followed  by  an 
unaccented  syllable)  roller  thundering  on  the  reef. 

What  has  been  said  will  reveal  the  reason  of  the  mis- 
take sometimes  made,  when,  owing  to  the  recognized 
difficulty  of  pronouncing  the  same  sound  in  both  an 
accented  and  in  a  following  unaccented  syllable,  the  in- 
ference is  drawn  that  the  remedy  for  the  difficulty  lies 
in  making  all  consecutive  sounds,  whatever  their  nature, 
as  different  as  possible.  This  latter  inference,  applied 
to  practice,  would  lead  to  the  effects  noticed  in  the  first 
quotation  on  page  112,  and,  as  will  presently  be  shown, 
would  violate  the  fundamental  principle  of  comparison 
which  underlies  all  poetic  harmony. 

The  mistake  can  be  obviated  by  recalling  that,  when  we 
speak  of  the  repetition  of  sounds  in  poetry,  we  mean  the 
repetition  of  poetic  sounds;  and  that  the  least  factor  of  a 
sound  distinctively  poetic — indeed  of  any  absolutely  com- 
pleted form  of  sound  distinctively  conversational  even — 
includes  the  complexity  involved  in  the  counteraction  of 
the  complementary  methods  that  we  have  in  accented  and 
unaccented  syllables.  These  together  are  needed,  though 
the   latter   may  sometimes  be  represented   by  a  pause 


120  RHYTHM  AND  HARMONY  IN  POETR  Y  AND  MUSIC. 

rather  than  by  an  audible  syllable,  in  order  to   make  one 
poetic  foot  or  measure. 

With  this  understanding  of  what  is  meant,  we  can  go 
back  now  to  the  statement  on  page  117,  and  say  that  if  we 
have  placed  the  organs  of  speech  into  position  for  the 
purpose  of  uttering  an  accented  sound  or  an  unaccented 
sound,  it  requires  less  expenditure  of  effort  to  repeat  this 
accented  or  this  unaccented  sound  than  to  put  them  into 
another  position  for  the  purpose  of  uttering  a  different 
sound.  This  principle,  when  applied,  leads,  of  course, 
to  the  use  in  succession  of  merely  like  accented  or  else 
like  unaccented  sounds.  As  a  fact,  it  is  only  of  the  like- 
ness in  the  former,  i.  e.,  in  accented  sounds,  of  which  in 
this  art  there  is  any  extensive  use.  This  is  as  we  should 
expect.  It  is  the  accented  sounds  that  seem  to  have 
principality,  and  to  make  these  alike,  naturally  conveys 
the  impression  as,  according  to  the  chart  on  page  3,  should 
be  the  case,  that  comparison  has  principality,  and  that  the 
contrast  afforded  in  the  unaccented  syllables  is  given  sub- 
ordination. Notice,  too,  that,  as  heard  consecutively,  the 
accented  and  unaccented  syllables  not  only  complement 
but,  in  a  way,  balance  each  other,  and,  through  the  agency 
of  tone,  augment  the  effects  of  organic  form,  which  we 
have  already  found  to  be  primarily  produced  through  the 
agency  of  rhythm. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

ALLITERATION,   ASSONANCE,   AND    RHYME. 

Like  Effects  in  the  Sounds  of  Syllables — Alliteration — In  Hebrew  Poetry — 
In  Greek,  Latin,  French,  Italian,  Spanish,  German — In  i\.nglo-Saxon — 
As  Used  by  Milton,  Shakespeare,  and  Modern  English  Poets — Asso- 
nance— Examples,  Greek,  Latin,  French,  Italian,  Spanish,  German, 
Anglo-Saxon,  English — Two  Examples  from  Tennyson — Assonance 
Used  for  Rhyme — Rhyme,  Place  of — Its  History — Greek,  Latin,  Early 
English — Reason  for  It — Rules  of,  First,  Second,  Third,  Fourth, 
Fifth — A  Correlated  Chinese  Style  of  Composition. 

TDEFORE  considering  the  relations  of  our  subject  to 
any  more  of  the  methods  mentioned  in  the  chart 
on  page  3,  let  us  notice,  in  order  to  perceive  clearly  ex- 
actly that  with  which  we  have  to  deal,  the  different  ways 
in  which  like  partial  effects  can  be  produced  in  connection 
with  unlike  complex  syllables.  As  the  factors  of  sylla- 
bles are  consonants  and  vowels,  of  course  this  must  be 
done  either  by  the  use  of  consonant-sounds  or  of  vowel- 
sounds,  or  of  a  combination  of  both.  The  first  of  these 
ways,  and  as  formerly  used  in  Anglo-Saxon  poetry,  the 
last  of  them  also,  gives  rise  to  alliteration,  the  second  to 
assonance,  and  the  third,  under  conditions  to  be  explained 
hereafter,  to  rhyme. 

Alliteration,  as  now  interpreted,  is  an  effect  produced 
when  series  of  syllables,  otherwise  different,  contain,  usu- 
ally at  their  beginning  rather  than  end,  consonants  repre- 
senting the  same  sounds.     Thus,  in  "keep  calling"  the  k 


122   RHYTHM  A ND  HARMON Y  IN  FOE TR  Y  AND  MUSIC. 

alliterates  with  c.  But  in  "  him  we  honor  "  the  sounded  h 
cannot  alliterate  with  the  silent  h.  To  prove  that  the 
mind  naturally  takes  satisfaction  in  alliteration,  and  is 
attracted  by  it,  we  have  only  to  read  the  ordinary  head- 
ings of  our  newspapers,  like  "  The  Stalwart  Struggle," 
"  Boston  Buds  with  Big  Blossoms,"  "  The  Meaning  of  the 
Message,"  or  to  recall  how  many  of  our  popular  proverbs, 
like  "  Fair  fowls  have  fine  feathers  "  exemplify  it. 

Alliteration  seems  to  have  been  used  very  early  in  the 
construction  of  poetry.  To  instance  no  other  examples, 
in  the  original  Hebrew  of  the  119th  Psalm  and  in  the 
third  chapter  of  the  book  of  Lamentations,  we  find  poems 
divided  into  twenty-two  stanzas,  each  of  which  is  named 
after  one  of  the  twenty-two  letters  of  the  Hebrew  alpha- 
bet. More  than  this,  each  verse  in  each  of  the  stanzas 
begins  with  the  letter  after  which  the  stanza  is  named. 
Here  is  a  similarity  of  sound  at  the  beginnings  of  lines  as 
great  as  we  find  in  our  day  in  the  rhymes  at  the  ends 
of  them. 

In  Greek  and  Latin  poetry  alliteration  was  used  very 
much  as  it  is  with  us.  In  the  very  first  line  of  the  "  Iliad," 
lambda  followed  by  eta  is  repeated  twice,  and  eta  three 
times,  and  all  of  these  repetitions,  as  we  should  expect 
from  what  was  said  on  page  120,  are  on  accented  syllables. 

Mrjviv  aeiSs,  Sea  JJrjXrfid^EGO  'AxiXijoS. 

— Iliad,  i.,  1  :  Homer. 

Notice,  too,  the  following : 

IIa6av,  6it666ov  exedx8  icvpoi  fievoi-  avrdp  eiteira. 

— Idem,  xxiv.,  792. 

Kal  tpsvyetv  6vv  vr/vdi  TtoXvxXiji6i  ue\ev6gd. 
'VjuiEiS  6'  aXXoSsv  aXXoS  kprjrvEiv  kitsE(56iv. 

—Idem,  ii.,  74,  75. 


ALLITERATION,    ASSONANCE  AND  RHYME.         1 23 

Also  these  from  the  Latin  of  Virgil : 

Ducite  ab  urbe  domum,  mea  carmina,  ducite  Daphnim. 

— Buc.  Eel.,  viii.,  68. 

Si  qua  fata  sinant,  jam  turn  tenditque  fovetque. 

— ^Eneid,  i.,  18. 

Bis  rejecti  armis  respectant  terga  tegentes. 

— Idem,  xi.,  630. 

Ergo  concilium  magnum,  primosque  suorum. 

— Idem,  234. 

Here  are  similar  arrangements  from  the  early  French  : 

Quant  cil  le  surent  en  Ely, 
Si  se  sunt  mis  en  sa  merci. 

— L'Eslorie  des  Engles  :  Geoffrei  Gaimar. 

Hoc  voleient  sujurner 
E  leisser  l'iver  trespasser, 
Mais  quant  Willame  90  entent, 
Si's  aturnat  tut  altrement. 

— Idem. 

Brabant,  Bourgongne  et  Boullenois, 
Haynau,  Holande,  et  Namurois. 
— Song  on  the  downfall  and  death  of  the  Earl  of  Warwick  :  Anon. 

And  here  from  modern  French : 

Ah  !  laissez-les  couler,  elles  me  sont  bien  cheres 
Ces  larmes  que  souleve  un  cceur  encor  blesse  ! 

— Souvenir  :  A  If  red  de  Musset. 

J'en  parle  par  hasard  pour  l'avoir  entrevu  ; 
Quelqu'un  peut  en  pleurer  pour  l'avoir  mieux  connu. 

— Le  ij  Juillet.     Idem. 

Vous  verrez  pres  de  vous,  dans  ces  chceurs  d'innocence, 
Charlotte  autre  Judith,  qui  vous  vengea  d'avance. 

— Les  Vierges  de  Verdun  :  Victor  Hugo. 


124  RHYTHM  AND  HARMON  Y  IN  FOE  TR  Y  AND  M USIC. 
Here  from  the  Spanish  : 

Mas  noble,  a  mis  manos  muere, 
Antes  que  a  morir  a  manos 
De  infames  verdugos  llegues. 

El  Mdgico  Prodigioso,  i.  :  Calderon. 


Mas  no  pude  ;  porque  al  punto 
Las  voces  se  desvanecen. 


— Idem. 


Arias.     Ocasion  debio  de  dalle. 
Pedro.     Dice  que  no  se  la  dio. 

— La  Estrella  de  Sevilla,  iii.  :  Lope  de  Vega. 

Here  from  the  Italian : 

Morti  li  morti,  e  i  vivi  parean  vivi. 
Non  vide  me'  di  me  chi  vide  il  vero, 
Quant'  io  calcai  fin  che  chinato  givi. 

— Purg.  xii.,  67  :  Dante. 

And  here  from  the  German  : 

Frankreich  erfiillt  die  Freundespflicht ;  mir  wird 
Verstattet  sein,  als  Konigin  zu  handeln. 

— Marie  Stuart,  ii.,  2  :  Schiller. 

And  here  is  a  combination  in  the  same  syllable  of  allitera- 
tion and  assonance  such  as  the  next  quotation  will  show 
us  in  Anglo-Saxon  poetry : 

Die  Bergeshohn  warum  so  schwarz  ? 
Woher  die  Wolkenwoge  ? 

—  Charon  :  Goethe. 

Alliteration,  often  accompanied,  as  has  just  been  said, 
by  assonance,  was  carried  to  excess  by  the  Anglo-Saxons. 
The  ears  of  their  descendants  became  so  accustomed  to 
hear  it  in  poetry  that,  in  the  twelfth  century,  as  Barry 


ALLITERATION,   ASSONANCE,   AND  RHYME.       125 

tells  us  in  his  "  Description  of  Wales,"  they  considered  no 
composition  elegant,  but  rude  and  barbarous,  if  it  were 
not  full  of  it.     Notice  the  following: 

Quhat  wikkitness,  quhat  wanthryft  now  in  warld  walkis 
Bale  has  banist  blythnes  boist  grete  brag  blawis 
Prattis  are  repute  policy  and  perellus  paukis 
Dygnite  is  laide  doun,  derth  to  the  dur  drawis,  etc. 

— Douglas1  Translation  of  Virgil's  &neid. 

In  a  somer  seson  *  whan  soft  was  the  sohne, 
I  shope  me  in  shroudes  '  as  I  a  shepe  were, 
In  habite  as  an  hermemite  ■  vnholy  of  workes, 
Went  wyde  in  this  world  '  wondres  to  here. 

—  Vision  of  Piers  Plowman  :  Langland. 

It  needs  to  be  observed,  in  accordance  with  what  was 
said  on  page  120,  that  few  among  the  Anglo-Saxon 
poets  applied  this  method  to  unaccented  syllables.  Their 
alliterations  were  usually  confined  to  consecutive  ac- 
cented syllables.  Some  of  their  poets,  also,  recognizing 
the  lack  of  art  in  excessive  uniformity,  were  satisfied  in 
case  they  began  with  the  same  sounds,  two  syllables  in 
one  line  and  one  syllable  in  the  next.  When  they  con- 
fined themselves  to  the  latter  course,  they  did  no  more,  as 
Dr.  Longmuir  has  shown  in  his  Preface  to  "  Walker's 
Rhyming  Dictionary,"  than  Milton  often  did,  notwith- 
standing his  expressed  contempt  for  those  who  put  the 
jingling  of  like  sounds  at  the  beginning  instead  of  at  the 
end  of  words.  For  instance,  "  Paradise  Lost  "  begins 
thus: 

Of  man's  first  disobedience  and  the  fruit 
Of  that  forbidden  tree  ; 

And  it  ends  with : 

They  hand  in  hand  with  wandering  steps  and  slow 
Through  Eden  took  their  solitary  way. 


126  RHYTHM  AND  HARMONY  IN  POETRY  AND  MUSIC. 

Notice,  also,  these  lines,  in  which  both  w  and  r  are 
repeated : 

War  wearied  hath  performed  what  war  can  do, 
And  to  disordered  rage  let  loose  the  reins. 

— Paradise  Lost,  vi. 

Considering  that  f  is  merely  the  aspirated  form  of  v, 
here  is  a  very  marked  instance  of  this  effect : 


Of  fiery  darts  in  flaming  volleys  flew, 
And  flying,  vaulted  either  host  with  fire. 


Spenser,  too,  is  full  of  alliteration 


— Idem. 


Who  him  disarmed,  dissolute,  dismayed, 
Unwares  surprised  and  with  mighty  mall 
The  monster  merciless  him  made  to  fall, 
"Whose  fall  did  never  foe  before  behold, 
And  now  in  darksome  dungeon,  wretched  thrall, 
Remediless,  for  aie  he  doth  him  hold. 

— Faerie  Queene,  i.,  7,  51  :   Spenser. 

We  find  it  in  Shakespeare  also : 

The  loyalty  well  held  to  fools,  does  make 
Our  faith  mere  folly. 

— Antony  and  Cleopatra,  iii.,  11  :   Shakespeare. 

Wise  men  ne'er  wail  their  present  woes, 
But  presently  prevent  the  ways  to  wail. 

— Richard II,  iii.,  2  :  Idem, 

They  say,  best  men  are  moulded  out  of  faults, 
And  for  the  most,  become  much  more  the  better 
For  being  a  little  bad. 

— Measure  for  Measure \  v.,  I  :  Idem. 


ALLITERATION,   ASSONANCE,   AND  RHYME.       12 J 
And  in  all  our  modern  poets,  e.  g. : 

Foiled,  bleeding,  breathless,  furious  to  the  last, 
Full  in  the  centre  stands  the  bull  at  bay. 

Childe  Harold,  i.  :  Byron. 

Nor  doubt  that  were  mankind  inert  and  numb, 
Its  core  had  never  crimsoned  all  the  same, 

Nor,  missing  ours,  its  music  fallen  dumb  ? 
O  dread  succession  to  a  dizzy  post, 

Sad  sway  of  sceptre  whose  mere  touch  appals  ! 

— Epilogue  to  Dramatis  Persona  :  R.  Brozvning. 

Current  among  men, 
Like  coin,  the  tinsel  clink  of  compliment. 

—  The  Princess  :   Tennyson. 

Ah,  Maud,  you  milk-white  fawn,  you  are  all  unmeet  for  a  wife ; 
Your  mother  is  mute  in  her  grave,  as  her  image  in  marble  above. 

— Maud  :  Idem. 

Ye  floods 
And  windy  waves  of  woods  ; 
Ye  valleys  and  wild  vineyards,  ye  lit  lakes 
And  happier  hill-side  brakes 
Untrampled  by  the  cursed  foot  that  trod 
Fields  golden  from  their  god, 
Fields  of  their  god  forsaken. 

— A  Song  of  Italy  :  Swinburne. 

Assonance  is  due  to  the  use  of  like  vowel-sounds, — like 
vowel-sounds,  notice,  as  in  her  and  burr,  not  like  vowels, 
as  in  her  and  error.  As  vowels  are  generally  more  pro- 
longed in  pronunciation  than  are  consonants,  they  are 
more  effective  in  producing  similarity  of  sound,  while  at 
the  same  time  they  obtrude  themselves  less  upon  the 
observation  either  of  the  ear  or  eye.  We  do  not  always 
notice  assonances,  unless  we  search  for  them.     We  notice 


1 2  8   RH  Y  THM  A  ND  HA  RMON  Y  IN  POETRY  A  ND  M  USIC. 

alliteration  at  once.     For  these  reasons,  poets  who  wish 
to  avoid  an  appearance  of  too  great  a  regard  for  form,  are 
much  more  ready,  of  the  two,  to  employ  assonance.     Its 
use  is  common  in  all  poetry. 
Notice  the  following : 

Ei  8s  he  jj.?)  ScoGodiv  syoo  8s  hsv  avr6$  sXcoi-iai 
~*Hrsdv  r/  Ai'avrcS  igov  yspai,  rj  'Otfftf^oS 

— Iliad,  i.,  137-8  :  Homer. 

Hopq>vpsoi<i  H£iz\oi6i  naXvipavTEi  jAa\axo76iv. 

— Idem,  xxiv.,  796. 

And  in  this  next  we  have  both  alliteration  and  assonance. 

'Ek  S,  snar6}xftr]v  (j7J6av  sh7](56Xoo  ^AiioWqovi. 

— Idem,  i. ,  438. 

Bis  rejecti  armis  respectant  terga  tegentes. 

— j&neid,  xi.,  630  :    Virgil. 

Adventusque  virum,  fremitusque  aidescit  equorum. 

— Ide?n.,  607. 

Supplicia  !  et  scopulos  lachrymosis  vocibus  implent. 
Haec  adeo  ex  illo  mihi  jam  speranda  fuerunt. 

— Idem,  274,  275. 

E  el  est  bone  e  el  est  bele  ; 
Si  est  truvee  en  la  gravele 
De  Libe,  de  cele  cuntree. 

— Early  French  Translation  :  Lapidaire  de  Marbode. 

Et  nous  nous  souvenous  que  nous  marchions  ensemble, 
Que  l'ame  est  immortelle,  et  qu'hier  c'est  demain. 

—  Sonnet  o?z  Victor  Hugo  :  Alfred  de  Mussel. 

II  recoit,  sans  faiblir,  cette  Couronne  ou  pese 
La  gloire  da  soixante  rois. 

— Le  Sacre  de  Charles  X. :    Victor  Hugo. 


ALLITERATION,   ASSONANCE,   AND  RHYME.       1 29 

Debio  importar  la  batalla 
Al  que  la  perdio,  perderla, 
Que  al  que  la  gano,  el  ganarla. 
Cipr.  Concedo  ;  pero  debiera,  etc. 

— El  Mdgico  Prodigioso,  i. :    Calderon. 

Mirad  que  es  hombre  en  efecto  ; 
Esto  os  digo  y  os  respeto 
Porque  os  fingisteis  el  rey. 

— La  Estrella  de  Sezdlla,  ii.:  Lope  de  Vega. 

Ed  ecco  a  poco  a  poco  un  fummo  farsi 

Verso  di  noi,  come  la  notte  oscuro, 

Ne  da  quello  era  loco  da  cansarsi. 
Questo  ne  tolse  gli  occhi  e  1'  aer  puro. 

— Purgatorio,  xv.,  142-145  :  Dante. 

Weil  sie  sich  nur  befliss  ein  Weib  zu  sein, 
Und  um  sie  buhlt  die  Jugend  und  das  Alter. 

— Maria  Stuart,  ii.,  9:   Schiller. 

Diese  Richtung  ist  gewiss, 
Immer  schreite,  schreite, 
Finsterniss  und  Hinderniss 
Drangt  mich  nicht  zur  Seite. 

— Neugriechische  Liebe-Skolien  :  Goethe. 

It  abounds  too  in  poetry  of  our  own  tongue : 

Alle  tha  theines 

Alle  tha  sweines 

Feire  is  crudde 

Helde  geond  felde 

Summe  heo  gunnen  aeruen, 

Summe  heo  gunnen  urnen,  etc. 

— Layamon's  trans,  of  Wace's  Le  Brut  d* Angleterre. 

Full  swetely  herde  he  confessioun. 

— Canterbury  Tales,  Prologue  :  Chaucer. 

So  muchel  of  daliaunce  and  fair  langage 
He  hadde  maad  ful  many  a  mariage. 

— Idem. 


130  RHYTHM  AND  HARMONY  IN  POETRY  AND  MUSIC. 

So  well  they  sped  that  they  be  come  at  length 
Unto  the  place  whereas  the  Paynim  lay. 

— Faerie  Queene,  \.,  5,  29  :   Spenser. 

Blind  fear  that  seeing  reason  lead  finds  safer  footing  than  blind  reason, 
stumbling  without  fear  ;  to  fear  the  worst  oft  cures  the  worst. 

—  Troilus  and  Cressida,  iii.,  2  :   Shakespeare. 

For  then  and  not  till  then  he  felt  himself 
And  found  the  blessedness  of  being  little. 

— Henry  VIII.,  iv.,  2  :  Idem. 

Her  fruit  trees  all  unpruned,  her  hedges  ruined, 
Her  knots  disordered  and  her  wholesome  herbs 
Swarming  with  caterpillers  ? 

— Richard  II..  iii.,  4:  Idem. 

Dwelt  from  eternity,  dwelt  then  in  thee, 
Bright  effluence  of  bright  essence  increate. 

— Paradise  Lost,  iii. :  Milton. 

Of  their  great  potentate  ;  for  great  indeed 
His  name,  and  high  was  his  degree  in  heaven. 

— Paradise  Lost,  v. :  Idem. 

Lofty  and  over-arched,  with  open  space 
Beneath  the  trees,  clear-footing  many  a  mile, 
A  solemn  region. 

—  The  Prelude,  9  :   Wordsworth. 

And  the  bay  was  white  with  silent  light 
Till  rising  from  the  same. 

— Ancient  Mariner  :  Coleridge. 

Mortal  warp  and  mortal  woof 
Cannot  brook  this  charmed  roof  ; 
All  that  mortal  art  hath  wrought 
In  our  cell  returns  to  nought. 

— From  the  Monastery  :  Scott. 

In  the  following  notice  the  repetitions  of   the  same 
vowel-sounds  in  the  words  its,  lips,  in,  with,  ribb'd,  drip, 


ALLITERATION,   ASSONANCE,   AND  RHYME.       131 

and  with,  also  in   red,  red,  and  ledges,  as  well  as  in  field 
and  heath : 

Its  lips  in  the  field  above  are  dabbled  with  blood-red  heath, 
The  red-ribbed  ledges  drip  with  a  silent  horror  of  blood. 

— Maud  :   Tennyson. 

Some  of  the  poets  of  Spain,  especially  the  dramatists, 
(see  page  129)  have  made  a  point  of  employing  assonance 
as  we  do  rhyme  at  the  ends  of  lines.  In  English  poetry 
it  is  hardly  admissible,  except  at  places  where  rhymes  are 
not  always  expected  or  made  prominent,  but  there  have 
been  times  when  it  was  common,^.^. : 

When  morning  beams  began  to  peep 

Among  the  branches  green 
The  lovers  rose,  and  part  to  meet 

And  tell  their  love  again. 

— Ballad  of  the  Hireman  Chiel. 

And  Cloudesly  lay  ready  there  in  a  cart, 

Fast  bound,  both  foot  and  hand  ; 
And  a  strong  rope  about  his  neck, 

All  ready  for  a  hang. 

—Old  Ballad  of  William  of  Cloudesly, 

Notice  this  also  : 

Maiden,  crowned  with  glossy  blackness, 

Lithe  as  panther  forest-roaming, 
Long-armed  naiad,  when  she  dances, 

On  a  stream  of  ether  floating. 

— Spanish  Gypsy  :  Geo.  Eliot. 

Rhyme  results  from  putting  like  syllables  at  the  ends  of 
different  lines  of  verses  or  of  half  lines,  or,  sometimes,  of 
phrases.  In  the  following,  for  instance,  they  are  at  the 
ends  of  half  lines  : 


132   RHYTHM  AND  HARMONY  IN  POETRY  AND  MUSIC. 

I  bring  fresh  showers  for  the  thirsting  flowers 

From  the  seas  and  the  streams  ; 
I  bear  light  shade  for  the  leaves  when  laid 

In  their  noon-day  dreams. 

—  The  Cloud  :  Shelley. 

And  in  this,  they  are  at  the  ends  of  phrases : 

And  the  silken,  sad,  uncertain  rustling  of  each  purple  curtain, 
Thrilled  me,  filled  me  with  fantastic  terrors  never  felt  before. 

—  The  Raven  :  E.  A.  Poe. 

Here  for  a  comic  effect  three  in  succession  are  at  the 
end  of  each  line  : 

Even  is  come  and  from  the  dark  park,  hark, 
The  signal  of  the  setting  sun, — one  gun, 
And  six  is  sounding  from  the  chime,  prime  time 
To  go  and  see  the  Drury  Lane  dane  slain, 
Or  hear  Othello's  jealous  doubt  spout  out, 
Or  Macbeth  raving  at  that  shade-made  blade. 

—Nocturnal  Sketch  :  T.  Hood. 

And  here  a  peculiar  effect  not  otherwise  different  from 
that  of  ordinary  verse  is  produced  by  dropping  one  letter 
from  the  beginning  of  each  successive  rhyming  syllable : 

I  bless  thee  Lord  because  I  grow 
Among  the  trees  which  in  a  ROW, 
To  thee  both  fruit  and  order  OW. 

What  open  force  or  hidden  charm 
Can  blast  my  fruit  or  bring  me  HARM, 
While  the  inclusure  is  thine  arm  ? 

— Paradise  :  Geo.  Herbert. 

As  has  been  said  before,  alliteration  and  assonance 
were  used  by  the  Hebrews  at  the  beginnings  of  lines. 
Rhyme  they  did  not  use,  though  it  is  employed  to  excess 
among  the  present  nations  of  the  Orient,  many  of  whose 


ALLITERATION,   ASSONANCE,   AND  RHYME.        1 33 

so-called  poems  are  made  up  of  series  of  lines  all  of  which 
end  with  a  similar  syllable.  Largely  for  this  reason,  per- 
haps, some  suppose  that  rhyming  originated  in  the  East ; 
but  the  statement  is  made  on  good  authority  that  it  cannot 
be  traced  farther  back  than  the  rymours  of  Normandy, 
the  troubadours  of  Provence,  and  the  minnesingers  of 
Germany.  It  never  occurred  to  the  Greeks  and  Romans 
to  use  rhymes  as  we  do  ;  but,  now  and  then,  they  seem 
to  have  stumbled  upon  them  ;  or,  possibly,  recognizing 
their  effects,  they  intentionally  introduced  them  into 
their  blank  verse  as  Shakespeare  sometimes  does.  In  the 
following  we  have  not  only  assonance  but  rhyme : 

Aaepoov  rj  yaXooov,  rf  Eivarepoov  EviteitXcov . 

— Iliad,  xxiv.,  769  :  Homer. 

Ty6iv  <5'  ^AvSpopiaxV  XevkgoXevoS  r/pxs  yooio, 
"Euvopoi  avdpocpovoio  xaprj  /ietcc  ^sptfzr  e'xov6a. 

— Idem,  723,  724. 

And  here  is  alliteration,  and  what  in  English  would  be 
an  "  allowable  "  rhyme  : 

Se  causam  clamat,  crimenque,  caputque  malorum  : 
Multaque  per  moestum  demens  effata  furorem. 

— ALneid  xii. ,  600-601  :  Virgil. 

And  we  find  other  expressions  like  this,  in  which  both 
the  er  and  the  us  suggest  a  recognition  of  rhyme-effects. 

Terque  quaterque  manu  pectus  percussit  honestum. 

—Idem,  ijj. 

Rhymes  are  not  found  in  England  earlier  than  the 
twelfth  century,  when  Layamon  used  them  in  a  transla- 
tion of  Wace's  "  Le  Brut  d'Angleterre,"  which  was 
rhymed  in  the  original.  About  the  time  of  Chaucer 
they  became  common,  and  have  continued  so  ever  since. 

Nor  without  good  reason.     Placed,  as  they  are,  at  the 


1 34  RHYTHM  AND  HARMON Y  IN  POE TRY  AND  MUSIC. 

ends  of  lines,  they  serve  to  separate  these,  one  from  the 
other,  and  to  emphasize  the  element  of  form  in  their  com- 
position (see  page  44).  They  do  this,  moreover,  by 
satisfying  the  distinctively  artistic  tendency  of  the  mind 
to  compare  and  classify  effects  that  are  alike,  indicating 
clearly  the  length  of  each  line,  and  which  lines  are  meant 
to  correspond. 

According  to  the  principles  now  in  vogue,  there  are  five 
conditions  necessary  to  render  rhymes  satisfactory  :  First : 
In  the  rhyming  syllables,  the  vowel-sounds  (not  neces- 
sarily the  vowel-letters)  and  whatever  sounds  (not  letters) 
follow  them  must  be  the  same,  e.g.,  burn,  fern,  earn  ;  foal, 
roll,  dole.  This  same  principle  applies  to  double  rhymes 
of  two  syllables,  like  glory  and  hoary ;  also  to  triple 
rhymes  like  readily  and  steadily. 

Second  :  Rhymes  must  begin  on  accented  syllables  ;  and 
the  accents  compared  must  be  equally  primary  or  second- 
ary; readily,  a  triple  rhyme  for  steadily,  rhymes  also, 
because  of  its  secondary  accent,  with  victory,  but  does  not 
rhyme  with  duty  or  sea.    Only  in  a  parody  should  one  sing  : 

New  volumes  came  across  the  sea 
For  Mister  Mudie's  library. 

— Captain  Reeee  :  Gilbert. 

Third :  In  rhyming  syllables  the  consonant-sounds 
before  the  rhyming  vowels  must  differ;  e.  g.,  meet  and 
meat  do  not  rhyme,  but  they  both  rhyme  with  sweet 
or  greet ;  neither  do  light  and  delight  rhyme,  but  they 
both  rhyme  with  might  or  bright.  Indewd  in  the  follow- 
ing is  a  faulty  rhyme  : 

Him  shall  he  make  his  fatal  instrument 
T'afflict  the  other  Saxons  unsubdewd  ; 
He  marching  forth  with  fury  insolent 

Against  the  good  king  Oswald,  who,  indewd 
With  heavenly  power,  etc. 

— Faerie  Queene,  iii.,  3,  38  :   Spenser. 


ALLITERATION,   ASSONANCE,   AND  RHYME.        1 35 

Fourth :  Rhymes,  if  used  at  all,  should  be  perfect, 
although  the  results  of  careless  workmanship  like  the  fol- 
lowing are  termed  "  allowable  "  : 

A  barbarous  phrase  no  reader  can  approve 
Nor  bombast,  noise,  or  affectation  love. 

—  The  Art  of  Poetry,  after  Boileau  :  Dry  den. 

Fifth :  Rhymes  should  not  be  too  far  apart.  It  is  one 
of  the  simplest  principles  of  art  that  effects  should  appear 
to  be  what  they  are  intended  to  be.  Therefore  rhyming 
lines  should  not  be  so  separated  by  intervening  lines  that 
the  ear  will  fail  to  detect  that  they  are  meant  to  go  to- 
gether. 

Before  leaving  this  subject,  mention  ought  to  be  made 
of  a  style  of  composition  common  among  the  Chinese, 
and  said  to  be  required  by  some  of  their  canons  of 
criticism.  It  is  relative  here,  because  it  is  evidently  only 
a  different  application  of  the  same  principle  that  with  us 
is  exemplified  in  alliteration,  assonance,  and  rhyme.  In 
accordance  with  this  method,  the  same  root-germ  is 
repeated  in  many  or  all  of  the  principal  words  of  the 
same  line.  The  resulting  effect  may  be  represented  in 
English  as  follows : 

The  physical  physiognomy  of  the  physician. 
The  philosophic  Philadelphian  philanthropist. 
Servants  that  serve  them  with  subservient  servility. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

COMPARISON   BY   WAY   OF    CONGRUITY,   CENTRAL   POINT, 

PARALLELISM,    ETC.,   AS   DETERMINING   THE 

USE   OF   LIKE   POETIC   SOUNDS. 


Inartistic  Effects  of  an  Excessive  Use  of  Alliteration,  Assonance,  and 
Rhyme — Objections  urged  against  Rhyme — These  Forms  should  not  be 
Discarded,  but  Used  in  Accordance  with  the  Art- Methods  :  Unity, 
Variety,  Comparison,  Contrast — Congruity  in  Thought  as  Represented 
in  Sound-Effects — Applied  to  Alliteration  and  Assonance — Influence 
of  these  upon  Association  and  Memory — Illustration — Influence  of 
Incongruity — Of  the  Art-Method  of  Comprehensiveness — Methods  of 
Principality,  Central-Point,  Subordination,  Setting,  as  Exemplified  in 
Sound-Arrangements — Correspondence  in  this  Regard  between  Effects 
of  Poetic  and  Musical  Harmony — Similar  Actions  of  the  Mind  in  both 
Arts — Parallelism  as  Emphasized  by  Rhyme. 

HP  HE  peculiarity  of  poetry,  as  was  shown  in  "  Poetry 
as  a  Representative  Art,"  consists  in  the  fact  that 
its  medium  is  composed  of  words,  which  words,  in  turn, 
are  forms  of  thought.  If,  therefore,  attention  be  directed 
too  exclusively  to  the  form  as  form,  the  thoughts,  which 
alone  give  it  real  value,  will  not  produce  their  legitimate 
effects.  For  this  reason,  there  is  always  an  inartistic 
tendency  in  any  excessive  use  of  alliteration,  assonance, 
or  rhyme.  Moreover,  as  explained  in  Chapters  I.  and 
II.  of  "  Art  in  Theory,"  there  is  a  sense  in  which  all  art- 
products  are  artistic  in  the  degree  in  which  they  are 
natural.     They   appear   most    natural,    of   course,    when 

136 


DETERMINING  THE  USE   OF  LIKE   SOUNDS.        1 37 

they  appear  most  spontaneous.  But  too  great  attention 
expended  upon  the  mere  selection  of  letter-sounds  inter- 
feres with  spontaneity  of  effect.  Excessive  alliteration, 
assonance,  and  rhyme  suggest  calculation,  contrivance, 
effort,  and  this  of  a  character  not  very  choice  in  quality. 
They  are  all  in  themselves  comparatively  easy  to  pro- 
duce ;  and,  unless  entering  into  the  formation  of  a  word 
exactly  fitted  to  convey  the  meaning  that  is  intended, 
they  suggest  an  unwarranted  sacrifice  of  sense  to  the 
mere  jingling  of  sounds,  and,  therefore,  a  cheap  form  of 
ornamentation.  See  "  Poetry  as  a  Representative  Art," 
Chapters  XIII.  and  XIV.  Accordingly,  there  is  the  best 
of  justification  for  a  parody  such  as  this : 

Holof ernes  :     I  will  something  affect  the  letter,  for  it  argues  facility. 

The  preyful  princess  pierced  and  prick'd  a  pretty  pleasing 

pricket ; 
Some  say  a  sore ;   but  not  a  sore,  till  now  made  sore  with 
shooting. 

— Love's  Labor 's  Lost,  iv. ,  2  :  Shakespeare \ 

For  somewhat  similar  reasons  rhyme,  too,  has  been 
attacked.     Ben  Jonson,  for  instance,  speaks  of  it  as 

Wresting  words  from  their  true  calling, 
Propping  verse  for  fear  of  falling 

To  the  ground  ; 
Jointing  syllables,  drowning  letters, 
Fastening  vowels  as  with  fetters 
They  were  bound. 

—  Underwoods,  xlvii.  :      A  Fit  of  Rhyme  against 
[  Rhyme  :  B.  Jonson. 

Milton  also,  in  his  note  at  the  opening  of  "  Paradise 
Lost,"  has  his  criticism  to  make  about  the  "jingling  of 
words  " ;  and  Dryden  thus  speaks  against  what  he  him- 
self used  constantly : 


I38  RHYTHM  AND  HARMONY  IN  POETR  Y  AND  MUSIC. 

Till  barbarous  nations  and  more  barbarous  times 
Debased  the  majesty  of  verse  to  rhymes  ; 
Those  rude  at  first :  a  kind  of  hobbling  prose 
That  limped  along  and  tinkled  at  the  close. 

— Epistle  the  Fifth  :  Dry  den. 

At  the  same  time,  we  should  err  did  we  draw  the  infer- 
ence that  alliteration,  assonance,  and  rhyme  should  be 
excluded  from  verse.  They  abound  through  all  the  range 
of  our  poetry,  and  the  mere  fact  that  they  are  sometimes 
misused  is  no  reason  why  they  should  not  be  used  at  all. 
Instead  of  saying,  therefore,  with  Sidney  Lanier,  when 
referring  to  the  first  two  of  them  in  his  "  Science  of  Eng- 
lish Verse,"  that  "  perhaps  no  person  who  has  never  been 
a  practical  craftsman  in  verse  would  be  aware  how  care- 
fully the  technic  of  the  word-artist  unconsciously  leads  him 
away  from  these  recurrences,"  one  would  better  start  by 
acknowledging  what  will  be  abundantly  proved  by  the  quo- 
tations following,  namely,  that  these  recurrences,  because 
used  in  accordance  with  the  principle  of  grouping  like 
partial  effects  in  unlike  complex  wholes,  constitute  of 
themselves  the  very  substance  of  verse-harmony.  This 
being  so,  to  find  out  the  methods  necessary  to  an  artistic 
use  of  them,  is  to  find  out  the  secret — so  far  as  mere 
knowledge  is  concerned — of  the  poet's  art.  Nor  can  the 
end  of  our  endeavors  here  be  obtained  by  a  mere  negative 
statement  of  what  should  not  be  done.  The  only  sure 
way  of  learning  how  to  avoid  inartistic  effects,  is  to  learn 
positively  how  to  produce  artistic  ones.  But  how  can  we 
learn  this  ?  How  better,  in  the  case  before  us,  than  by 
noticing  the  special  applications  to  our  particular  subject 
of  the  general  principles  unfolded  in  "  The  Genesis  of  Art- 
Form,"  and  represented  on  page  3  of  the  present  book? 
As  fundamental  to  these  principles,  it  was  shown  that  the 


THE  USE   OF  LIKE  POETIC  SOUNDS. 


*39 


main  object  of  art  is  to  accommodate  the  mind's  desire 
for  unity  to  nature's  fact  of  variety,  and  that  this  desire 
is  carried  into  execution  by  efforts  at  comparison  con- 
stantly modified  by  different  tendencies  in  the  direction 
of  contrast. 

Of  the  methods  described  in  "  The  Genesis  of  Art- 
Form  "  as  entering  into  the  general  effects  of  unity,  com- 
parison, moreover,  when  considered  as  conditioned  upon 
the  requirements  of  the  product,  was  shown  to  be  mani- 
fested by  way  either  of  likeness  in  the  thought  expressed  in 
forms,  or  congruity ;  of  likeness  in  the  forms  themselves,  or 
repetition ;  or  of  likeness  in  the  elements  underlying  both 
congruity  and  repetition,  which  causes  them  to  be  allied 
as  in  consonance.  Let  us  now  take  up  in  succession  each 
of  these  methods — congruity,  repetition,  and  consonance 
— and  notice  the  influence  of  each  upon  the  use  of  alliter- 
ation, assonance,  and  rhyme. 

Likeness  in  the  thought  expressed,  or  likeness  by  way 
of  congruity,  had  evidently  little  to  do  with  the  origin  of 
any  effects  such  as  we  are  now  considering.  These  are 
almost  entirely  developed  from  the  requirements  of  sound 
as  sound.  Nevertheless,  it  must  not  be  supposed  that 
here,  any  more  than  elsewhere  in  art,  the  requirements  of 
thought  are  wholly  without  influence.  To  begin  with  a 
general  principle  capable  of  application  to  all  that  can  be 
said  in  this  connection,  notice  that  successive  utterances, 
in  the  degree  in  which  they  are  alike,  require  less  effort 
not  only  of  the  physical  powers  but  of  the  mental  by 
which  the  physical  are  controlled  and  interpreted.  When 
a  man  is  called  upon  to  articulate,  or  to  hear  a  series  of 
sounds  that  are  alike  or  allied,  there  is  less  to  tax  or 
perplex  his  mind,  than  if  they  were  unlike.  As  a  result, 
therefore,  the  ease  of  utterance  obtained  through  a  repe- 


140  RHYTHM  AND  HARMONY  IN  POETR  Y  AND  MUSIC. 

tition  of  sounds  has  a  tendency  to  cause  the  mind  to 
think  that  what  is  being  said  is  of  the  same  general 
character  as  that  which  has  been  said ;  in  other  words, 
to  cause  the  mind  to  group  and  to  classify  that  which 
is  being  uttered  with  that  which  has  been  uttered.  That 
this  is  so,  may  be  brought  out  more  clearly,  perhaps,  by 
referring  to  an  opposite  fact.  This  fact  is,  that,  in  case 
one  wishes  to  convey  the  impression  that  what  is  being 
said  is  not  of  the  same  general  character  as  that  which 
has  been  said,  but  distinctly  and  importantly  different 
from  it,  he  indicates  this  by  giving  to  a  word  or  phrase 
— in  elocution,  say,  in  which  art  the  fact  is  most  apparent 
— what  is  termed  an  emphasis.  But  how  is  elocutionary 
emphasis  of  any  kind  imparted,  except  through  applying 
time,  force,  pitch,  or  quality  in  a  method  which  contrasts, 
in  some  way,  with  the  method  used  with  other  accom- 
panying words  or  phrases  ? 

Of  course,  for  the  very  reason  just  mentioned,  it  follows 
that  these  repeated  sounds,  if  used  to  excess,  become 
wearisome  not  only  to  the  ear,  but  also  to  the  mind,  which 
does  not  relish  the  suggestion  that  no  new  idea  is  being 
brought  to  its  consideration.  Nevertheless,  here  is  a  prin- 
ciple in  accordance  with  which  congruous  or  like  ideas,  if 
expressed  in  congruous  or  like  sounds,  have  a  tendency 
to  suggest  such  conceptions  as  those  of  association,  con- 
nection, or  continuity.  As  Dr.  Longmuir  says  in  his  pref- 
ace to  Walker's  "  Rhyming  Dictionary,"  in  language  that 
may  be  applied  not  only  to  alliteration  but  to  assonance: 

"When  a  subject  is  proposed  for  discussion  or  description  it  is  surely 
somewhat  remarkable  that  so  many  of  the  words,. appropriate  to  the  subject, 
should  begin  with  the  same  letter.  It  is  this  consideration  that  probably  would 
lead  down  to  the  roots  of  our  language  and  might  discover  the  cause,  why  it 
is  so  difficult  altogether  to  eradicate  alliteration  from  our  speech.   Thus  were 


THE   USE   OF  LIKE   POETIC  SOUNDS.  141 

we  to  take  gold  for  an  illustration,  we  should  find  that,  under  some  aspects, 
it  glows,  and  in  others  gleams  ;  all  grasp  for  it  and  many  groan  under  it ;  it 
gilds  the  saloon,  it  glitters  on  the  brow  of  beauty,  and  excites  the  gaze  of  the 
multitude  ;  it  has  been  used  as  a  gag  to  the  loquacious,  a  goad  to  the  indo- 
lent, a  guerdon  to  the  poet,  and,  rarely,  a  gift  to  the  meritorious.  This  sub- 
ject, however,  belongs  rather  to  the  profound  philologist  than  to  the  mere 
describer  of  the  externals  of  our  English  poetry." 

Notice,  too,  in  this  connection  what  is  said  on  page  135 
of  Chinese  poetry.  Its  repetitious  use  of  the  root-germ  is 
evidently  only  a  natural  development  of  such  a  thought 
as  is  suggested  in  this  quotation  from  Dr.  Longmuir. 

Aside,  too,  from  any  connection  or  fancied  connection 
between  sound  and  sense  of  the  kind  just  indicated,  there 
is  no  doubt  that  the  grouping  of  like  effects  of  sounds, 
giving,  as  it  does,  a  like  tone  or  color  to  different  words, 
causes  them  not  only  to  be  associated  in  mind,  but,  because 
so,  to  be  retained  in  memory,  as  otherwise  would  not  be 
the  case.  Notice  how  true  this  is  in  expressions  like  the 
following: 

"  Money  makes  the  mare  go."  "  All  is  not  gold  that 
glitters."  "  Penny  wise,  pound  foolish."  "  Cleanliness 
is  next  to  godliness."  "  Chronic  diseases  must  have 
chronic  cures."     "  The  right  man  in  the  right  place." 

Of  course,  it  follows  that  rhymes  too  have  a  similar 
effect,  e.  g. : 

Light  gladdens,  darkness  saddens. 

All  are  but  parts  of  one  stupendous  whole 
Whose  body  nature  is,  and  God  the  soul. 

— Essay  on  Man  :  Pope. 

All  nature  is  but  art  unknown  to  thee  ; 

All  chance,  direction  which  thou  canst  not  see  ; 

All  discord,  harmony  not  understood  ; 

All  partial  evil,  universal  good  ; 

And  spite  of  pride  in  erring  reason's  spite, 

One  truth  is  clear,  Whatever  is,  is  right. 

— Idem. 


142   RHYTHM  AND  HARMONY  IN  POETRY  AND  MUSIC. 

There  is,  therefore,  such  a  thing  as  having  congruity  of 
thought  manifested  by  congruity  of  sound.  This  is  the 
fact  which  excuses  an  occasional  use  of  lines  like  the  fol- 
lowing, in  the  first  of  which  the  continual  whistling  of  the 
wind  is  represented  in  the  w ;  and  in  the  second  of  which 
the  continual  check  put  upon  free  vitality  of  movement 
is  represented  in  the  d. 

O  wind,  O  wingless  wind  that  walkst  the  sea, 
Weak  wind,  wing-broken,  wearier  wind  than  we. 

— On  the  Cliffs  :  Swinburne. 

And  dulled  to  death  with  deep  dense  funeral  chime 
Of  their  reiterate  rhyme. 

— Idem. 

The  converse  too  is  true,  of  course,  namely,  that  incon- 
gruity of  thought  may  be  manifested  by  incongruity  of 
sound ;  as  here,  by  way  of  emphasis,  to  indicate  general 
mental  incongruity : 

What  ?  keep  a  week  away  ?  seven  days  and  nights  ? 
Eightscore  eight  hours, — and  lover's  absent  hours, — 
More  tedious  than  the  dial  eightscore  times  ? 

— Othello,  iii.,  4  :  Shakespeare. 

And  here,  by  way  of  description,  to  indicate  a  special 
incongruity  connected  with  the  conception  of  the  thing 
described : 

Ay,  in  the  catalogue  ye  go  for  men  ; 
As  hounds  and  greyhounds,  mongrels,  spaniels,  curs, 
Shoughs,  water-rugs,  and  demi-wolves  are  clep'd 
All  by  the  name  of  dogs. 

— Macbeth,  iii.,  I :  Shakespeare. 

Of  course,  too,  so  far  as  what  is  termed  comprehensive- 
ness, (see  page  3  and  "  The  Genesis  of  Art-Form,"  Chap- 


THE  USE   OF  LIKE  POETIC  SOUNDS.  143 

ter  IX.),  can  be  represented  in  form  as  distinguished  from 
thought,  this  also  would  be  indicated  by  a  series  of  con- 
gruous sounds,  as  in  the  first  two  lines  of  the  following, 
accompanied  by  a  series  of  incongruous  sounds,  as  in  the 
last  lines. 

And  the  muttering  grew  to  a  grumbling  ; 
And  the  grumbling  grew  to  a  mighty  rumbling  ; 
And  out  of  the  houses  the  rats  came  tumbling. 
Great  rats,  small  rats,  lean  rats,  brawny  rats, 
Brown  rats,  black  rats,  gray  rats,  tawny  rats, 
Grave  old  plodders,  gay  young  friskers, 

Fathers,  mothers,  uncles,  cousins, 
Cocking  tails  and  pricking  whiskers  ; 

Families  by  tens  and  dozens. 

—  The  Pied  Piper  of  Hamelin  :  R.  Browning. 

In  "  The  Genesis  of  Art-Form  "  it  was  pointed  out  that 
the  recognition  of  likeness  in  thought  is  greatly  facili- 
tated by  the  like  arrangement  of  unlike  forms  about  a 
central-point,  itself  occupied  by  the  feature  of  principal 
interest.  It  was  shown  that  the  concentration  of  the 
lines  or  light  upon  this  feature  naturally  concentrates 
upon  it  the  attention  of  the  mind.  The  central-point  is 
thus  a  nucleus  or  focus  of  the  grouping,  and  furnishes  a 
clew  or  key  to  interpret  that  to  which  the  other  features 
of  a  composition  are  related,  though  only  in  thought.  On 
page  170  of  the  same  volume,  the  corespondence  between 
this  principle  and  the  recurrence  of  the  key-note  in  music 
was  pointed  out.  Occasionally  we  find  poets,  uncon- 
sciously as  it  seems,  producing  a  similar  effect  in  the  ar- 
rangement of  poetic  sounds.  By  emphasizing  through 
arrangement  one  series  of  alliterations  or  assonances  they 
make  this  the  principal  or  central  series,  to  which  all  other 
series  in  the  passage  are  made  subordinate,  or  are  merely 


144  RHYTHM  AND  HARMONY  IN  POETRY  AND  MUSIC. 

used  as  a  setting  (see  page  3).  In  the  following,  for  in- 
stance, the  /  which  is  used  in  the  principal  words,  is  the 
principal  alliteration,  which  only  the  majority  of  people 
would  notice.  It  occurs  thirteen  times,  five  times  at  the 
beginning  of  a  syllable,  and  six  times  at  its  end,  and  nine 
times  on  accented  syllables.  Notice  also — though  this 
anticipates  what  is  to  be  observed  hereafter — how  the  at- 
tention is  emphatically  drawn  away  from  the  /-sounds, 
first,  by  the  assonant  ^-sounds  and  ^-sounds  in  the  second 
line,  next  by  the  assonant  /-sounds  in  the  third  and  fourth 
lines,  and  lastly  by  the  assonant  ^"-sounds,  in  beams,  sea, 
and  year.  As  a  result  of  all  these  arrangements,  the  pas- 
sage as  a  whole  has  a  general  sound-effect  of  great  unity, 
but  secured  in  so  artistic  a  manner  as  not  to  give  the 
slightest  suggestion  of  the  unnatural  or  artificial. 

Ah,  when  sha//  a//  men's  good 
Be  each  man's  rule,  and  zmiversa/  peace 
Lie  like  a  shaft  of  light  across  the  /and, 
And  like  a  /ane  of  beams  athwart  the  sea, 
Through  a//  the  circ/e  of  the  Go/den  Year  ? 

—  The  Golden  Year  :    Tennyson. 

According  to  another  arrangement  securing  this  unity 
of  effect,  like  sounds  used  on  particularly  emphatic 
words  are  introduced  near  the  beginning,  and  also  some- 
where in  the  middle  and  finally  at  the  end  of  a  sentence. 
This  too  is  identical  with  an  arrangement  recognized  to 
be  satisfactory  in  music,  where  often  the  key-note  of  a 
melody  is  sounded  at  these  places.  Each  sentence  in  the 
following  is  constructed  on  this  principle.  In  the  first, 
notice  the  em  followed  by  the  our,  powers,  and  how,  and 
then  by  en,  en,  en.  In  the  second,  notice  repair,  calamity, 
and  despair  ;  also  in  the  intervening  clauses,  the  own,  over, 


THE   USE   OF  LIKE  POETIC  SOUNDS.  145 

force,  and  hope,  which  last  sound,  too,  as  arranged,  might 
end  a  climax,  with  the  re  and  we  as  the  intervening 
assonance. 

And  reassembling  <?ur  afflicted  powers 
Consult  how  we  may  henceforth  most  offend 
Our  enemy  ;  our  <?wn  loss  how  repair  ; 
How  overcome  this  dire  calamity  ; 
"What  reinforcement  we  may  gain  from  hope  ; 
If  not,  what  resolution  from  despair. 

— Paradise  Lost,  i.  :  Milton. 

In  this,  notice  the  long  a  (including  ei)  with  the  interven- 
ing assonances  of  short  a,  and  of  or  : 

So  were  created,  i\or  can  justly  accuse 
Thez'r  maker  or  thez'r  making  or  thez'r  fate. 

— Paradise  Lost,  iii.  :  Milton. 

These  connections  between  characteristics  of  harmony 
as  produced  in  music  and  in  poetry  are  mainly  interesting 
as  showing — what  will  be  brought  out  more  clearly  here- 
after— how  analogously  the  mind  works  when  securing, 
though  unconscious  of  its  method,  either  musical  or  poetic 
unity  of  effect.  No  one  can  fail  to  detect  in  both  arts 
the  operation  of  the  same  general  principle.  In  both  the 
emphatic  sounds  after  starting  at  one  point,  circle  off,  as 
we  may  say,  bringing  in  other  emphatic  sounds,  and  then 
after  returning  at  intervals,  at  last  return  finally  to  the 
point  from  which  they  started.  On  page  105  a  typical 
rhythm  is  shown  to  be  representative  of  either  a  poetic 
or  a  musical  movement ;  and  here  the  same  may  be  said 
to  be  shown  of  a  typical  series  of  tones. 

The  chief  effect,  in  this  connection,  of  rhyme  or  of  as- 
sonance, when  used,  as  indicated  on  page  131,  instead  of 


14^  RHYTHM  AND  HARMONY  IN  POETRY  AND  MUSIC. 

rhyme,  is  to  emphasize  the  parallelism  (see  page  3),  which, 
as  indicated  on  page  29  is  exemplified  in  all  versifica- 
tion. To  perceive  parallelism  in  unrhymed  blank  verses, 
it  is  often  necessary  to  see  them  printed ;  but  in  succes- 
sive lines  ended  with  the  same  sounds,  the  ear  recognizes 
it  at  once. 


CHAPTER  X. 

REPETITION,        ALTERNATION,        CONSONANCE,        INTER- 
CHANGE,   ETC.,   AS   DETERMINING  THE 
USE   OF  LIKE   POETIC   SOUNDS. 

Repetition  and  Alternation  as  Influencing  the  Use  of  Alliteration,  Asson- 
ance, and  Rhyme — Of  Alternation  as  Developed  from  Parallelism  and 
Balance — Balancing  Series  of  Sounds — In  Whole  Words  that  are  Alike 
— How  these  Exemplify  Alternation — Balancing  Series  of  Sounds  alike 
by  Alliteration  or  Assonance — From  the  Greek,  Latin,  Spanish, 
French,  German,  English — Excess  in  this  to  be  Avoided — Massing  as 
a  Corrective  of  Excessive  Balance  or  Alternation — And  Interspersion 
as  Corrective  of  Excessive  Massing — Also  Complication  and  Continuity 
— Poetic  Examples  of  these  Methods — Consonance  as  Applied  to 
Sounds  ;  Phonetic-Syzygy — Examples  of  the  Use  of  Allied  Consonant- 
Sounds — Of  Allied  Vowel-Sounds — Dissonance  and  Interchange  in 
Music — In  Poetic  Sounds — Illustrations. 

A  S  has  been  said  before,  and  it  may  as  well  be  recalled 
here  for  the  encouragement  of  those  who  may 
possibly  have  found  what  they  consider  an  unnecessary 
amount  of  subtlety  in  the  statements  of  Chapter  IX., 
likeness  in  thought  by  way  of  congruity  is  exemplified  to 
only  a  limited  extent  by  the  use  of  alliteration,  assonance, 
and  rhyme.  What  is  usually  exemplified,  is  likeness  in 
form  by  way  of  repetition  (see  page  3).  What  repetition 
is  in  itself  needs  no  explanation.  We  need  to  consider 
only  the  ways  in  which  it  is  modified  by  the  natural  ten- 
dencies always  influencing  it  when  nature  is  allowed  to 
assert  herself.     These  are  in  the  direction  of  contrast  as 

147 


I48  RHYTHM  AND  HARMONY  IN  POETRY  AND  MUSiC. 

shown  in  alteration  and  of  complement  as  shown  in  alter- 
nation. Alliteration,  assonance,  and  rhyme  can  evidently 
be  varied  by  altering  the  letter-sounds  with  which,  in  suc- 
cessive syllables,  they  are  combined.  This  introduces, 
and  sometimes  very  effectively,  the  element  of  contrast. 
Notice,  in  the  following,  how  the  repetition  of  syllables 
in  which,  as  usually  in  Anglo-Saxon,  vowels  and  con- 
sonants are  both  alike,  serves  to  accentuate  the  effect  of 
likeness,  and  increase  whatever  impression  of  a  lack  of 
spontaneity  or  of  naturalness  they  may  convey. 

All  the  wandering  waves  of  sea  with  all  their  warring  waters 
Roll  the  record  on  forever  of  the  sea-fight  there. 

— Athens  :   Swinburne. 

But  lightning  still  and  darkling  downward,  lo 
The  light  and  darkness  of  it, 
The  leaping  of  the  lamping  levin  afar 
Between  the  full  moon  and  the  sunset  star. 

—  The  Garden  of  Cymodoce  :    Idem. 

Notice  also  what  was  said  of  rhymes  under  the  tkirdhead, 
on  page   134. 

Mere  alteration,  however,  is  not  all  that  is  necessary  in 
order  to  remedy  the  effects  of  excessive  alliteration  or  as- 
sonance. Let  us  pass  on  to  the  modifications  of  these 
that  are  suggested  by  the  methods  in  the  column  on  page 
3,  in  which  we  find  complement,  balance,  parallelism,  and 
alternation.  Notice,  first,  that  in  order  that  there  should 
be  any  effect  of  alliteration,  assonance,  or  rhyme,  two  like 
sounds  are  necessary.  But  even  these  two  sounds  would 
not  always  emphasize  the  effect  so  that  the  ear  would 
necessarily,  though  possibly  unconsciously,  experience  its 
artistic  influence,  unless  it  were  followed  by  other  like 
sounds.  If  followed  by  sounds  exactly  like  the  first  two, 
we  should  have  simple  repetition.     But  we  are  consider- 


THE   USE   OF  LIKE  POETIC  SOUNDS.  149 

ing  now  modifications  of  this.  Evidently,  the  earliest 
suggested  modification  of  it  would  be  to  have  a  series  of 
two  like  sounds  followed  by  another  different  series  of  two 
like  sounds.  In  this  case  we  should  have  two  separate 
instances  of  comparison  ;  or  comparison  as  a  principal 
method  together  with  variety.  If  now,  recalling  that  va- 
riety is  artistic  in  the  degree  in  which  it  really  conforms 
to  the  principle  of  unity,  the  poet  choose,  for  his  second 
series,  sounds  decidedly  different  from  those  in  his  first 
series,  he  will  produce  the  effect  of  contrast.  But,  as  ele- 
ments of  a  single  unity,  comparison  and  contrast  together, 
even  if  there  were  not  two  series  of  sounds,  would  neces- 
sitate complement  ;  and  this,  as  shown  in  the  list  of 
methods  on  page  3,  is  that  from  which  are  developed 
balance,  comprehensiveness,  parallelism,  and  the  alternation 
for  which  we  are  here  in  search. 

We  are  able  now  to  give  a  good  reason,  and  one  appa- 
rently little  understood,  why  poets  so  often  when  they 
use  like  sounds  use  two  that  balance  each  other  ;  and,  not 
only  so,  but  often  use  different  series  of  these  balancing 
sounds,  taking  care,  also,  to  have  the  sounds  of  the  one 
series  such  as  will  naturally  contrast  with  those  of  another 
series,  as,  for  instance,  /  contrasts  with  h,  or  b  with  s,  or  u 
with  a,  or  0  with  e. 

Sometimes  this  method  fulfills  the  principle  of  balance 
in  its  most  technical  sense,  in  that  both  factors  of  a  series 
are  alike  in  all  regards,  e.  g. : 

Dowered  with  the  hate  of  hate,  the  scorn  of  scorn, 
The  love  of  love. 

—  The  Poet  :    Tennyson. 

With  ruin  upon  ruin,  rout  on  rout 
Confusion  worse  confounded. 

— Pardise  Lost,  ii.  :  Milton, 


I50  RHYTHM  AND  HARMONY  IN  POETRY  AND  MUSIC. 

Bright  bank  over  bank 

Making  glorious  the  gloom, 
Soft  rank  upon  rank, 

Strange  bloom  upon  bloom, 
They  kindle  the  liquid  low  twilight  and  dusk  of  the  dim  sea's  womb. 

Off  Shore  :   Swinburne. 

Notice  also  several  different  ways  in  which  the  above 
may  be  said  to  exemplify  the  principle  of  alternation : 
first,  in  the  regular  succession  of  accented  followed  by 
unaccented  syllables  ;  second,  in  the  succession  of  at  least 
two  similar  accented  syllables,  though  separated  by  unlike 
accented  syllables ;  third,  in  the  series  of  two  measures, 
both  having  a  similar  accented  syllable  followed  by 
another  series  of  two  measures,  both  having  a  similar  ac- 
cented syllable,  which,  however,  contrasts  with  the  ac- 
cented syllable  in  the  first  series,  and  fourth,  in  the 
arrangement  of  the  lines,  only  every  other  one  of  which 
has  a  like  rhyme. 

More  frequently,  however,  as  influenced  by  the  tenden- 
cies inclining  to  counteraction,  complement ',  and  parallelism, 
the  balancing  factors  differ  somewhat,  fulfilling  the 
method  not  only  of  repetition,  but  also  of  alternation. 
Notice  in  this  the  sounds  of  av  and  y : 

Avrtf  SJ  avr  iSvvev,  0S1  Z,Qo6rrjpoi  ox^eS. 

Iliad,  iv.,  132  :  Homer. 

In  this  the  sounds  of  u  and  c : 

Corripuere,  ruuntque  effusi  carcere  currus. 

— Georgica,  iii.,  104:    Virgil. 

Here  are  instances  of  balance  in  almost  every  line,  in 
some  cases,  too,  of  whole  words. 


THE  USE  OF  LIKE   POETIC  SOUNDS.  151 

Dios,  a  quien  ninguno  iguala, 
Un  principio  sin  principio, 
Una  esencia  una  sustancia, 
Un  poder  y  un  querer  solo  ; 
Y  cuando   como  este  haya 
Una,  dos  6  mas  personas, 
Una  deidad  soberana, 
Ha  de  ser  sola  en  esencia, 
Causa  de  todas  las  causas. 

— El  Mdgico  Prodigioso,  i.,  Calderon. 

In  this  notice  the  sounds  of  s,  p,  and  several  of  ou : 

Muse,  sois  done  sans  crainte  ;  au  souffle  qui  t'inspire 
Nous  pouvons  sans  peril  tous  deux  nous  confier. 
II  est  doux  de  pleurer,  il  est  doux  de  sourire 
Au  souvenir  des  maux  qu'on  pourrait  oublier. 

— La  Nuit  d'Octobre  :  Alfred  de  Mussel. 

In  this,  the  sounds  of  o,  u,  ey  and  a : 

La  dov'  io  piu  sicuro  esser  credea  : 

Quel  da  Esti  il  fe'far,  che  m'avea  in  ira,  etc. 

— Purg.,  v.,  76,77  :  Dante. 

In  this,  the  sounds   of  i,  u,  i  and  ei,  with  balancing 
phrases  in  the  third  line : 

Bin  ich  nicht  immer  noch  voll  Muth  und  Lust  ? 
Und  Lust  und  Liebe  sind  die  Fittige 
Zu  grossen  Thaten. 

Grosse  Thaten?     Ja, 
Ich  weiss  die  Zeit. 

— Iphigenie  auf  Tauris,  ii.,  I  /  Goethe. 

In  this,  the  sounds  of  w,f>  ch%  and  d\ 

Beware  of  fraud,  beware  of  ficklenesse, 

In  choice  and  chaunge,  of  thy  deare-loved  dame. 

— Faerie  Queene,  i. ,  4,  3  :  Spenser, 


I  $2  RHYTHM  AND  HARMONY  IN  POETRY  AND  MUSIC. 
In  this,  the  sounds  of  th,  wa,  s,  and  e : 

Tho'  thou  the  waters  warp, 
Thy  sting  is  not  so  sharp, 

As  friend  remembered  not. 

— As  You  Like  It,  ii. ,  7  :  Shakespeare. 

In  this,  the  sounds  of  a,  y,  or  i,  zv,  and  o : 

I  am  misanthropos  and  hate  mankind  ; 
For  thy  part  I  do  wish  thou  wert  a  dog 
That  I  might  love  thee  something. 

—  Timon  of  Athens,  iv.,  3  :  Idem. 

In  these,  the  sounds  of  h,  fl,  st,  ooy  w,  p,  r,  a,  a>  not  to 
speak  of  /  and  d\ 

As  head  and  heels  upon  the  floor 

They  floundered  all  together, 
There  strode  a  stranger  to  the  door, 

And  it  was  windy  weather. 

The  wild  wind  rang  from  park  and  plain 

And  round  the  attics  rumbled, 
Till  all  the  tables  danced  again, 

And  half  the  chimneys  tumbled. 

—  The  Goose  :    Tennyson. 

And  many  examples  of  balance  in  these : 

Be  with  my  spirit  of  song  as  wings  to  bear, 
As  fire  to  feel  and  breathe  and  brighten  ;  be 
A  spirit  of  sense  more  deep  of  deity, 
A  light  of  love,  if  love  may  be,  more  strong 
In  me  than  very  song. 

—  The  Garden  of  Cymodoce  :  Swinburne. 

Sharp  and  soft  in  many  a  curve  and  line 
Gleam  and  glow  the  sea-colored  marsh-mosses, 

Salt  and  splendid  from  the  circling  brine 
Streak  on  streak  of  glimmering  sunshine  crosses 

All  the  land  sea-saturate  as  with  wine. 

— By  the  North  Sea  :  Idem. 


THE  USE   OF  LIKE   POETIC  SOUNDS.  153 

The  last  quotations  show  us  that  this  balancing  of  com- 
plementary sounds,  if  continued  with  too  great  regularity, 
may  itself  become  as  monotonous  as  a  succession  of  like 
tones  that  are  not  balanced.  Where  alliteration  and 
assonance  are  both  used,  as  in  the  last  quotation  from 
Shakespeare,  there  is  less  of  this  tendency,  but  even  there 
it  may  be  present. 

Let  us  go  on,  therefore,  to  notice  in  what  other  ways 
inartistic  effects  may  be  avoided.  Of  course,  the  first 
way  of  avoiding  balance,  while  preserving  repetition,  is 
to  increase  the  collective  instances  of  repetition ;  and 
the  first  result  of  this  would  be  the  effect  termed  massing 
(see  page  3).  As  explained  in  "  The  Genesis  of  Art- 
Form,"  the  influence  of  this  effect  upon  the  mind  is  to 
call  attention  to  the  thought  represented  in  the  sounds 
by  a  reiteration  of  them  ;  and,  when  there  is  justification 
for  this,  massing  is  allowable.  Notice  the  whispering  of 
the  conspirators  as  represented  in  the  continued  repetition 
of  the  s  in  the  following: 

Who  rather  had, 
Though  they  themselves  did  suffer  by  it,  behold 
Dissentious  numbers  pestering  streets,  than  see 
Our  tradesmen  singing  in  their  shops  and  going 
About  their  functions  friendly. 

— Coriolanus,  iv.,  6  :   Shakespeare. 

Also  the  accumulation  of  the  effects  of  horror  in  the  con- 
tinued use  of  the  assonant  0  in  this : 

All  these  and  thousand  thousands  many  more, 
And  more  deformed  monsters  thousand-fold, 
With  dreadful  noise  and  hollow  rombling  roar, 
Came  rushing. 

— Faerie  Queene,  2,  12,  25  :  Spenser, 


154  RHYTHM  AND  HARMONY  IN  POETRY  AND  MUSIC. 

There  is  always  in  this  method,  however,  a  tendency  to 
the  unnatural  and  artificial,  e.g. : 

No  foote  to  foe ;  the  flashing  fier  flies 
As  from  a  forge. 

— Faerie  Queene,  i,  2,  17  :   Spenser. 

This  tendency  can  be  prevented  by  the  method  con- 
trasting with  it,  which  is  termed  on  page  3  inter spersion. 
This  means  merely  the  use  of  like  forms  not  massed 
together  but  separated  in  some  way.  Evidently  it  will 
lead  to  results  not  greatly  superior  to  those  illustrated  on 
page  in  unless  it  be  very  artistically  developed.  The 
artistic  development  of  it,  as  of  all  the  methods  in  the 
same  column  with  it  on  page  3,  is  found  in  considering  its 
connection  with  that  phase  of  counteraction,  complement, 
balance,  parallelism,  and  alternation  which  we  have  in 
complication.  As  said  in  Chapter  XIV.  of  "  The  Genesis 
of  Art-Form,"  this  word,  like  parallelism,  continuity, 
and  many  others  used  in  art,  is  borrowed  from  one  indi- 
cating relationships  of  lines.  It  means  a  folding  or  blend- 
ing together  primarily  of  these,  but,  secondarily,  of  any 
forms,  which,  as  Charles  Blanc  says  in  his  "  Art  in  Orna- 
ment and  Dress,"  "  penetrate,  intersect,  balance,  and  cor- 
respond to  each  other,  approach  to  retreat,  and  touch 
one  moment  to  depart  the  next,  and  dissolve  themselves 
in  a  labyrinth  without  outlet  and  without  end.  The 
Arabs  have  thus  realized  the  strange  phenomenon  which 
consists  in  producing  an  apparent  disorder  by  means  of 
the  most  rigid  order." 

What  characterizes  this  method,  is  the  appearance  of 
one  form  followed  by  its  disappearance,  and  the  appear- 
ance of  a  second  form,  or  series  of  forms  ;  then  the  dis- 


THE  USE   OF  LIKE  POETIC  SOUNDS.  1 55 

appearance  of  this  second  form  or  series  of  forms,  fol- 
lowed by  the  reappearance  of  the  first  form,  and  so  on. 
Especially  does  this  reappearance  characterize  the  effects 
of  complication  when  they  are  blended  with  those  of 
continuity,  as  should  be  the  case  in  poetry — an  art  the 
medium  of  which  is  always  a  form  of  movement.  It  is 
not  necessary  to  explain  in  what  way  complication,  as 
thus  employed,  involves  a  blending  of  the  effects  of 
balance  and  alternation.  In  it,  instead  of  having  two  like 
sounds  of  one  series  followed  by  two  like  sounds  of 
another  different  series,  we  hear  one  sound  followed  by 
a  different  one ;  then  a  repetition  of  the  same  contrast  in 
the  same  order.  If,  besides  this,  the  phrases  containing 
the  unlike  sounds  differ  in  length,  especially  if  their  differ- 
ence cause  the  sounds  to  be  further  apart  in  one  phrase 
than  in  the  other,  then  this  additional  inequality  evidently 
counteracts  still  further  the  tendency  to  monotony.  No- 
tice, in  the  following,  the  how  and  then  the  hotmds,  fol- 
lowed by  horn  in  the  one  phrase,  and  the  rouse  followed 
by  morn  in  the  next  phrase  : 

Oft  listening  how  the  hounds  and  horn 
Cheerily  rouse  the  slumbering  morn. 

— U  Allegro  :  Milton. 

Notice  in  this  the  lo  and  the  e,  and  the  contrasts  between 
herring  loves,  mackerel  loves,  and  oyster  loves  : 

The  herring  loves  the  m<?rry  moon/ight, 

The  mackerel  /eves  the  wind, 
The  oyster  /eves  the  dredging  sang, 

For  they  wme  of  a  gentle  kind. 

— From  "  The  Antiquary"  ;  Scott. 

In  this  the  show  and  sum-,  and  fore  and  come : 


15^  RHYTHM  AND  HARMONY  IN  POETRY  AND  MUSIC. 

A  day  in  yipril  never  came  so  sweet 

To  sh<nv  how  costly  summer  was  at  hand 

As  this  fore-spwrrer  c^mes. 

— Merchant  of  Venice,  ii. ,  g  :   Shakespeare. 

And  the  m  and  u  in  both  phrases  in  this : 

For  men,  like  bz*tterflies, 
Show  not  their  wealy  wings  hut  to  the  summer. 

—  Troilus  and  Cressida,  iii.,  3  :  Idem. 

We  now  come  to  consonance.  This  affords  a  way  of 
using  sounds  in  accordance  with  the  methods  on  page  3, 
which  in  many  cases  enables  an  artist,  while  fulfilling  all 
the  requirements  of  his  art,  nevertheless  absolutely  to 
conceal  it. 

As  explained  in  Chapter  VIII.  of  "  The  Genesis  of  Art 
Form,"  consonance  is  caused  by  likeness  of  effects  as  pro- 
duced partly  upon  the  mind  and  partly  upon  the  senses. 
In  poetic  form,  it  would  lead  to  the  use  together  of  sounds 
allied  rather  than  alike.  For  instance,  b  and  /  may  be 
said  to  be  allied,  in  the  sense,  too,  of  being  consonant. 
They  differ  in  that  b  has  a  preliminary  sound,  and/  has 
none.  But  they  are  so  nearly  alike  that  the  mind  often 
confounds  them,  as  is  proved  in  the  history  of  deriva- 
tions ;  and  so  too  does  the  ear,  as  is  proved  by  the 
endeavor  of  a  foreigner  to  imitate  the  pronunciation  of  a 
native  word  containing  one  of  them.  For  the  same  rea- 
sons v  and  /also  are  allied  and  consonant  ;  and  so,  though 
less  clearly,  are  all  four  of  these  consonants — byp,  v,  and/". 
The  same  thing  may  be  affirmed  of  d  and  /,  of  th  (hard), 
and  th  (soft),  and  of  all  four ;  also  of  k  [c  hard  or  q)  and 
g  hard  ;  of  j  (g  soft)  and  ch  soft ;  of  m  and  ny  of  /  and  r, 
of  z  and  s,  of  zh  and  s/i,  of  the  consonants y  and/,  also  of 
y  and  long  u.     A  succession  of   sounds  thus  allied  is 


THE  USE   OF  LIKE   POETIC  SOUNDS.  1 57 

termed  by  Professor  Sylvester,  in   his  "  Laws  of  Verse," 
phonetic  syzygy. 

To  confirm  what  has  been  said,  notice  that,  in  the  fol- 
lowing, p,  b,  v,  and  f  have  almost  the  same  effects  as 
alliteration,  but  without  any  suggestion  of  artificial  mech- 
anism such  as  might  result  were  these  letters  identical : 

Not  to  us  is  given  to  share 

The  boon  bestowed  on  Adam's  race. 

With  patience  bide, 

Heaven  will  provide 
The  fitting  time,  the  fitting  guide. 

— From  "  The  Monastery  "  .•  Scott. 

Round  thee  blow,  self-pleached  deep, 
Bramble  roses  faint  and  pale. 

— A  Dirge  :   Tennyson. 

I  '11  frown  and  be  perverse,  and  say  thee  nay 
So  thou  wilt  woo,  but  else  not  for  the  world. 

— Romeo  and  Juliet ',  ii.,  2:   Shakespeare. 

His  love  was  an  eternal  plant 

Whereof  the  root  was  fixed  in  virtue's  ground, 

The  leaves  and  fruit  maintained  with  beauty's  sun. 

— Henry  VI,  pt.  in.,  hi.,  3  :  Idem. 

Feed  not  thy  sovereign's  foe,  my  gentle  earth, 
Nor  with  thy  sweets  comfort  his  ravenous  sense. 

Richard  IF,  iii.,  2  :  Idem. 

So,  in  the  following,  notice  each  d  and  /  : 

Touch  it  and  take  it,  't  will  dearly  be  bought. 

— From  "  The  Monastery  "  :  Scott. 

Thy  friends  suspect  for  traitors  while  thou  livest 
And  take  deep  traitors  for  thy  dearest  friends  ! 

— Richard  III.,  i.,  3  :    Shakespeare. 


1 5 8   RHYTHM  A ND  HA RMON Y  IN  POE TRY  A ND  M USIC. 

If  ever  he  have  child,  abortive  be  it, 
Prodigious  and  untimely  brought  to  light. 

— Richard  III.,  i.,  2  :  Idem. 

These  show  a  resemblance  between  /  and  r : 

Have  I  not  heard  great  ord'nance  in  the  field 
And  heaven's  artillery  thunder  in  the  skies  ? 
Have  I  not  in  a  pitched  battle  heard 
Loud  'larums,  neighing  steeds,  and  trumpets'  clang  ? 

—  Taming  of  the  Shrew,  i.,  2  :  Idem. 

The  following,  between  g,  c,  c/i,  and  th  : 

With  some  fine  color  that  may  please  the  eye 
Of  fickle  changelings  and  poor  discontents 
Which  gape  and  rub  the  elbow  at  the  news 
Of  hurly-burly  innovation. 

— Henry  IV.,  pt.  I,  v.,  I  :  Idem. 

For  in  revenge  of  my  contempt  of  love 

Love  hath  chased  sleep  from  my  enthralled  eyes. 

—  Two  Gentlemen  of  Verona,  ii.,  4  :  Idem. 

The  following,  between  m  and  n  : 

O  let  me  not  be  mad,  not  mad,  sweet  heaven, 
Keep  me  in  temper.     I  would  not  be  mad. 

— King  Lear,  i.,  5  :  Idem. 

And  these  will  illustrate  sufficiently  what  was  said  of  the 
remaining  letters : 

Assure  yourself,  after  our  ship  did  split, 

When  you  and  that  poor  number  saved  with  you, 

Hung  on  our  driving  boat,  I  saw  your  brother. 

—  Twelfth  Night,  i.,  2  :  Idem. 

And  slow  and  sure  comes  up  the  golden  year. 

—  The  Golden   Year  :    Tennyson. 


THE  USE   OF  LIKE  POETIC  SOUNDS.  1 59 

There  are  also  allied  vowel  sounds,  like  those  in  quill 
and  quell,  not  and  what,  fat  and  fair,  fan  axidfine,  their 
and  there,  hall  and  whole,  but  and  put,  full  a.nd  fool,  pull 
and  pure,  lawn  and  loin, pool  and  power,  pair  and  peer,  etc. 
Notice,  besides  the  assonances  in  the  following,  the  re- 
semblances between  the  sounds  of  all  and  down,  darling 
and  life,  and  tomb  and  sounding. 

And  so  all  the  night-tide  I  lie  down  by  the  side 
Of  my  darling,  my  darling,  my  life  and  my  bride, 

In  the  sepulchre  there  by  the  sea, 

In  her  tomb  by  the  sounding  sea. 

— Annabel  Lee  :  Poe. 

Notice  in  this  the  allied  sounds  of  o,  ou,  oo,  and  u,  as  well 
as  how  appropriate  all  of  them  are  to  represent  the  cloud 
from  which  the  lightnings  are  shot : 

With  iron-worded  proof,  hating  to  hark 

The  humming  of  the  drowsy  pulpit-drone, 

Half  God's  good  Sabbath,  while  the  worn-out  clerk 

Brow-beats  his  desk  below.     Thou  from  a  throne, 

Mounted  in  heaven  wilt  shoot  into  the  dark 

Arrows  of  lightnings.     I  will  stand  and  mark. 

— Sonnet  to  J.  M.  K.  :   Tennyson. 

The  method  opposed  to  consonance  which  is  caused  by 
the  conditions  of  nature  is  dissonance — an  effect  that  may 
be  illustrated,  so  far  as  it  is  inartistic,  by  the  passages  on 
pages  in  and  1 12, and  so  far  as  it  is  artistic, because  rep- 
resentative of  the  sense,  by  those  on  pages  142  and  143. 
Its  artistic  accommodation  to  consonance,  viewed  as  a 
form  of  sound,  is  found — in  analogy  to  what  is  true  of  all 
the  methods  occupying  corresponding  places  in  the 
columns  above  it  in  the  chart  on  page  3 — in  that  phase  of 
counteraction,  complement,  and  balance,  which,  in  this  case, 


l6o  RHYTHM  AND  HARMONY  IN  POETRY  AND  MUSIC. 

is  termed  interchange.  The  function  of  this  method  as 
interpreted  by  its  use  in  music,  an  art  in  which  the  effects 
of  consonance  are  particularly  prominent,  is  pointed  out 
in  Chapter  XV.  of  "  The  Genesis  of  Art-Form,"  as  well  as 
in  Chapter  XV.  of  the  present  essay.  In  these  places 
it  is  shown  that,  in  passing  from  one  chord  to  another, 
the  ear,  in  order  to  preserve  the  unity  of  effect,  requires 
the  presence  in  both  chords  of  an  identical  note;  and  that, 
when,  through  the  second  chord,  the  music  enters  a  differ- 
ent key,  it  requires  what  sometimes  is,  in  a  sense,  an  arbi- 
trary introduction  into  the  first  chord  of  a  note  legitimate 
only  to  the  second  chord. 

With  this  understanding  of  the  function  of  interchange 
in  music,  notice  in  the  following  how,  in  every  case,  before 
one  series  of  like  tones  is  ended,  another  series  is  begun. 
The  effect  resembles — indeed  it  often  includes — that  de- 
scribed as  complication  ;  but  it  differs  because  containing 
nothing  necessarily  to  suggest  a  regularity  of  balance, 
there  being  no  order  of  sounds  in  one  series  which  is  fol- 
lowed exactly  by  an  order  of  sounds  in  a  succeeding 
series.  In  this  passage  from  Milton,  notice  how  the  like 
sounds  of/,  b,  s,  or  wt  and  of  the  /  as  allied  to  the  b  are 
thus  introduced  into  other  series  coming  before  or  after 
them,  and  introduced  in  such  a  way  as  to  separate  them 
from  the  series  to  which,  as  like  sounds,  they  belong. 
Notice,  also,  that,  as  a  result,  the  sounds  of  the  whole  pas- 
sage are  so  blended  together  as  to  produce  a  general  effect 
of  unity,  in  exact  analogy  with  that  which  is  done  by 
methods  of  modulation,  as  the  term  is  understood,  in  music. 

The  air 
.Floats  as  they  pass,  fanned  with  unnumbered  plumes. 
From  branch  to  branch  the  smaller  /lards  with  song 
Solaced  the  woods  and  .reread  their  painted  wings." 

— Paradise  Lost,  7  :  Milton. 


THE   USE   OF  LIKE  POETIC   SOUNDS.  l6l 

In  the  following,  one  principal  series  beginning  with 
/urther  ends  at  /luttered  ;  another  beginning  at  farther 
ends  with  mattered  ;  another  beginning  with  the  first  th^n 
passes  on  through  the  second  th^n  to  friends;  and  still 
another,  starting  with  m<?re  ends  at  before. 

Nothing  further  then  he  uttered  ;  nor  a  feather  then  he  fluttered, 
Till  I  scarcely  more  than  muttered  "  Other  friends  have  flown  before." 

—  The  Raven  :  Poe. 

Notice  the  quotation  from  Tennyson  on  page  144,  as 
well  as  the  following.  Indeed,  were  it  necessary,  illustra- 
tions of  this  method  could  be  gathered  in  abundance 
from  writers  of  every  nation. 

Zwei  Blumen,  rief  er,  hort  es,  Menschenkinder. 
Zwei  Blumen  bliihen  fur  den  weisen  Finder, 
Sie  heissen  Hoffnung  und  Genuss. 

— Resignation  :  Schiller. 


CHAPTER    XI. 

GRADATION,   ABRUPTNESS,   CONTINUITY,   AND    PROGRESS 
AS  DETERMINING  THE   USE   OF   LIKE   POETIC  SOUNDS. 

Importance,  in  all  the  Arts  as  an  Element  of  Harmony,  of  Gradation — Logi- 
cal Connection  between  it  and  the  Use  of  Allied  Sounds :  All  Possible 
Syllable-Sounds  can  be  Graded  and  Arranged  in  a  Series — So  can 
Words,  though  Containing  both  Consonants  and  Vowels — Degrees  of 
Phonetic  Gradation  Determined  by  the  Manner  of  Utterance  and  Kinds 
of  their  Gradation  by  the  Direction  of  the  Changes  in  Utterance  :  Analo- 
gies between  Gradation  in  Words  and  in  the  Musical  Scale — Illustra- 
tions of  Gradation  in  Verse — Especially  in  the  Accented  Syllables — 
Analogy  between  One  Effect  of  it  and  the  Discord  of  the  Seventh  in 
Music — Variety  in  Verse  Harmony  as  Produced  by  the  Combination  of 
all  the  Methods  here  Considered — Abruptness  in  Verse  Harmony — 
Transition  and  Progress — Examples. 

A /TORE  subtle  methods  of  securing  verse-harmony 
still  remain  to  be  considered.  In  the  list  of 
these  on  page  3  under  and  after  consonance,  we  shall 
find  gradation,  abruptness,  transition,  and  progress — all 
of  which,  as  will  be  shown  presently,  fulfill  very  im- 
portant artistic  functions,  not  only  in  connection  with 
music,  but  also  with  poetry.  There  is  a  kind  of  harmony 
resulting  from  mere  consonance  ;  but  this  would  give  no 
more  than  the  notes  of  the  common  chords  for  a  gamut 
of  music,  colors  as  widely  separated  as  the  primary,  or 
the  secondary,  or  the  complimentary,  for  a  gamut  of  pig- 
ments, and  only  like  or  allied  alliterations,  assonances,  or 
rhymes  for  a  gamut  of    verse.      But   in  all  three  arts, 

162 


THE   USE    OF  LIKE  POETIC  SOUNDS.  1 63 

gamuts  are  constructed  upon  the  principle  of  gradation. 
The  result  is  melody  in  music,  tone  in  painting,  and 
a  corresponding  effect  in  poetry,  that  is  now  to  be 
explained. 

The  reason  in  nature  for  using  gradation  was  stated  on 
page  268  of  "  The  Genesis  of  Art-Form."  The  reason 
for  developing  its  possibilities  in  either  of  the  arts  of 
sound  follows  logically  from  what  has  been  said  of  allied 
sounds.  If  one  sound  be  allied  in  one  way  to  a  second 
sound  that  differs  from  it  slightly,  why  cannot  this  second 
be  allied  in  an  analogous  way  to  a  third,  and  the  third  to 
a  fourth?  The  moment  that  we  ask  this  question  an 
affirmative  answer  is  suggested,  and  we  find  that  we  can 
arrange  the  sounds  of  the  consonants  and  also  of  the 
vowels  in  a  graded  scale  in  which  they  all  differ  from  one 
another  in  approximately  similar  degrees,  each  produced 
by  a  movement  of  the  vocal  organs  a  little  further  in  the 
same  direction  as  that  in  which  they  were  moving  when 
pronouncing  the  sound  next  before  it.  For  instance, 
starting  the  articulation  as  far  back  in  the  mouth  as  pos- 
sible, we  can  get  a  series  represented — approximately,  in 
a  case  where  it  is  mainly  necessary  to  consider  the  effect 
upon  the  ear — in  the  sounds  of  the  initial  letters  of  the  fol- 
lowing :  hay,  keep,  jar,  chaise,  shall,  you,  roll,  lune,  dole, 
toll,  zone,  (a)zure,  soon,  noon,  this,  thin,  moon,  bat,  pop, 
van,  fan,  way,  whey.  The  same  order  of  utterance  ap- 
plied to  the  vowel-sounds,  irrespective  of  their  associated 
consonants,  will  give  us  a  series  like  long  00,  o,  i,  a,  e.  To 
extend  this  including  short-vowels  and  diphthongs,  will 
give  us  a  series  something  like  the  sounds  heard  in  moot, 
foot,  bone,  bound,  boil,  dawn,  fall,  file,  far,  fair,  but,  bat, 
bail,  met,  it,  eat. 

Of  course,  in  actual  words,  consonants  and  vowels  are 


164  RHYTHM  AND  HARMONY  IN  POETRY  AND  MUSIC. 

usually  joined,  and,  in  the  same  syllable,  the  vocal  organs 
in  passing  from  one  to  another  consonant-sound,  may 
move  in  one  direction  ;  and  in  passing  from  one  to  an- 
other vowel-sound,  they  may  move  in  another  direction. 
But  this  fact,  while  it  complicates  the  application  of  the 
principle,  does  not  make  it  impossible ;  and  frequently, 
by  suggesting  likeness  through  the  sound  of  one  letter 
and  unlikeness  through  the  sound  of  another,  introduces 
complementary  effects  of  the  most  artistic  character. 
Words  as  words,  sometimes  on  account  of  their  conso- 
nants, sometimes  on  account  of  their  vowels,  sometimes 
on  account  of  the  blendings  of  both,  can  be  arranged  so 
that  the  order  of  the  articulation  of  tones  from  the  back 
to  the  front  of  the  mouth,  or  the  reverse,  shall  continue 
to  be  the  same. 

What  has  been  said  implies  that  there  are  two  applica- 
tions of  this  method  of  phonetic  gradation.  The  first 
causes  each  of  a  series  of  sounds  to  differ  from  the  one 
nearest  it  in  a  like  degree.  The  second  causes  it  to  differ 
by  a  movement  of  the  organs  in  a  like  direction.  Of  the 
two,  the  second  is  the  more  important ;  and  it  is  worthy 
of  notice  that  the  same  is  true  of  these  methods  as 
applied  to  the  use  of  musical  scales.  Gradation  performs 
a  more  important  office  in  guiding  the  general  direction 
of  the  voice  upward  or  downward,  than  in  leading  it  up- 
ward or  downward  by  regular  degrees. 

If  we  examine  our  popular  poetry  we  shall  be  surprised 
to  find  how  full  it  is  of  this  phonetic  gradation,  to  which, 
as  it  has  never  been  an  acknowledged  poetic  effect,  we 
can  only  suppose  that  delicate  taste  and  a  desire  to  pro- 
vide for  ease  of  utterance  have  led  the  poets  uncon- 
sciously. Look  at  these  verses.  The  music  and  charm 
of  them  everybody  recognizes.     Now  notice  how  largely 


THE  USE   OF  LIKE  POETIC   SOUNDS.  1 65 

the  effect  is  produced  by  the  gradation  of  the  sounds. 
This  is  perfect  in  the  accented  vowels  of  the  first  and  of 
the  second  lines,  in  the  accented  consonants  preceding 
the  vowels  of  the  third  line,  and  in  both  vowels  and  con- 
sonants in  each  of  the  two  halves  of  the  fourth  line. 

Tell  me  not  in  mournful  numbers 

Life  is  but  an  empty  dream, 
For  the  soul  is  dead  that  slumbers, 

And  things  are  not  what  they  seem. 

—  The  Psalm  of  Life  :  Longfellow. 

Notice  the  gradation  in  the  accented  syllables  of  each 
of  these  lines  : 

Till  death  have  broken 
Sweet  life's  love  token, 
Till  all  be  spoken 

That  shall  be  said, 
What  dost  thou  praying, 
O  soul  !  and  playing 
With  song  and  saying 

Things  flown  and  fled  ? 

— Anifna  Anceps  :  Swinbtirne . 

Who  rowing  hard  against  the  stream 
Saw  distant  gates  of  Eden  gleam1 
And  did  not  dream  it  was  a  dream. 

—  Two  Voices  :   Tennyson. 

The  was  in  this  last  line  prepares  for  the  closing  of  the 
series  of  gradations  in  very  much  the  same  way  as  the  dis- 
cord of  the  seventh  that  precedes  the  last  note  of  a  mu- 
sical melody.  Notice,  too,  how  the  sounds  move  forward 
or  backward  in  each  of  the  phrases  of  the  following : 

O  such  a  deed 
As  from  the  body  of  contraction  plucks 
The  very  soul  ;  and  sweet  religion  makes 
A  rhapsody  of  words. 

— Hamlet,  iii.,  4  :   Shakespeare. 
1  Between  d  and  g,  each  used  twice. 


1 66  RHYTHM  AND  HARMONY  IN  POETRY  AND  MUSIC. 

Finally,  notice  in  this,  a  combination  of  gradation  and 
of  balance,  through  effects  in  succession  of  long  u,  broad 
a  or  oit  and  ou : 

And  Tumult  and  Confusion  dW.  imbr<?*led 
And  Discard  with  a  th^wsand  various  nu>#ths. 

— Paradise  Lost,  ii.  :  Milton. 

Abruptness,  as  distinguished  from  gradation,  needs  no 
further  illustration  than  is  given  in  the  quotations  on  page 
112.  The  following  might  be  termed  artistic  abruptness 
intended  to  represent  the  sense  : 

Though  the  yesty  waves 
Confound  and  swallow  navigation  up  ; 
Though  bladed  corn  be  lodg'd,  and  trees  blown  down  ; 
Though  castles  topple  on  their  warders'  heads  ; 
Though  palaces  and  pyramids  do  slope 
Their  heads  to  their  foundations  ;  though  the  treasur* 
Of  nature's  germins  tumble  altogether, 
Ev'n  till  destruction  sicken, — answer  me 
To  what  I  ask  you. 

— Macbeth,  iv.,  I  :   Shakespeare. 

Transition  is  the  result  when,  through  methods  of  in- 
terchange, described  on  page  160,  series  of  what  we  may- 
term  principal  sounds  are  made  to  pass  into  one  another 
in  such  ways  as  to  continue,  notwithstanding  abruptness, 
the  effect  of  unity  as  in  gradation  and  yet  secure  that 
also  of  artistic  progress.  In  the  following  notice  how 
a  principal  long  ^sound,  through  a  subordinate  short 
<?-sound  interchanged  with  it  and  the  short  ^-sound,  passes 
into  a  principal  long  <?-sound,  then  into  a  principal  long 
^-sound,  then  into  a  principal  long  <?-sound,  and  then  into 
a  principal  long  u  sound  : 


THE  USE   OF  LIKE  POETIC  SOUNDS.  1 67 

In  the  szlence  of  the  m'ght 
How  we  shiver  with  affright 
At  the  me\z.nebo\y  #z<?nace  of  their  tone  ! 
For  ^very  sound  that  floats 
From  the  rust  within  their  threats 

Is  a  groan. 
And  the  people — ah,  the  people — 
They  that  dwell  up  in  the  steeple 

All  alone, 
And  who,  tolling,  tolling,  tolling, 

In  that  wuffled  wonotone, 
F<?el  a  glory  in  so  rolling 

On  the  h«man  heart  a  stone, 
They  are  nether  man  nor  woman, 
They  are  neither  brwte  nor  hzraian, 

They  are  Ghowls. 

—  The  Bells  :  Poe. 

Notice  similar  methods  of  transition  in  the  following, 
and  how  much  more  subtle  and,  because  the  method  is 
concealed,  how  much  more  artistic  and  satisfactory  is  its 
music  than  that  which  is  produced  according  to  the  more 
common  and  apparent  methods  represented  on  pages  122 
to  130: 

Folio w'd  with  acclamation,  and  the  sound 
Symphonious  of  /en  /ho^sand  harps  that  tuned 
Angelic  harmonies  ;  the  <?arth,  the  air, 
Resounded. 

— Paradise  Lost,  vii  :  Milton. 

For  the  moon  never  beams  without  bringing  me  drazms 

Of  the  beautiful  Annabel  Lee, 
And  the  stars  never  rise  but  I  feel  the  bn'ght  «?yes 

Of  the  beautiful  Annabel  Lee. 
And  so  all  the  m'ght-U'de  /  lie  down  by  the  side 
Of  my  darling,  my  darling,  my  h'fe  and  my  bride, 

In  the  .sepulchre  th^re  by  the  s^a, 

In  her  tomb  by  the  .rounding  sea.. 

—Annabel  Lee  :  Poe. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

ANALOGIES  BETWEEN   THE    USE    OF   QUALITY  AND  PITCH 
IN   POETRY   AND    MUSIC. 

Each  of  these  Arts  Developed  Independently,  yet  Sounds  as  Used  in  Both 
are  Connected — Every  Vowel  Has  a  Quality  of  its  Own — Also  a  Pitch — 
Not  Essential  for  our  Purpose  to  Know  what  this  Pitch  Is — Only  the 
Fact — In  Passing  from  One  Word  to  Another  we  Pass  to  a  Different 
Pitch,  and  in  Using  Different  Vowel  and  Consonant  Sounds  Together 
in  One  Word  we  Produce  Effects  Allied  to  Chords — These  Effects 
Augmented  by  Upward  and  Downward  Inflections  Used  in  Reading, 
Causing  Analogies  to  Musical  Melody  and  Harmony — Different  Kinds 
of  Verse-Melody  Produced  by  Different  Arrangements  of  Sounds  and 
Accents — Tunes  of  Verse  as  Determined  by  the  Rhythm — Illustrations 
— Melody  and  Harmony,  though  Existing  in  Both  Poetry  and  Music, 
Are  Different  in  Each  Art — Every  Possible  Pitch  of  the  Voice  can  be 
Used  in  Poetry ;  Only  Notes  of  Some  Selected  Pitch  in  Music — The 
Cause  of  this  Difference  to  be  Found  in  the  Difference  between  the 
Expressional  Possibilities  of  Articulated  and  Inarticulated  Sounds — 
Early  Musicians  did  Not  Know  all  their  Reasons  for  Constructing  Musi- 
cal Scales — But,  Judging  by  Effects,  were  Led,  as  is  Now  Known,  in  All 
Cases  to  Put  together  Like  Partial  Effects  of  Unlike  Complex  Wholes. 

TT  is  natural  to  suppose  that  the  laws  of  sound  work 
analogously  in  poetry  and  in  music,  but  as,  histori- 
cally, each  of  these  arts  is  developed  in  accordance  with 
independent  tendencies  of  its  own,  it  has  been  thought 
best  up  to  this  point  to  treat  poetry  precisely  as  would 
have  been  done,  had  music  never  existed.  But  one  object 
of  this  series  of  essays  is  to  show  the  correspondences  be- 
tween the  arts  ;  and  on  this  account  not  only,  but  because 

16S 


QUALITY  AND  PITCH  IN  POETRY  AND  MUSIC.     1 69 

of  the  way  in  which  the  known  facts  of  music  confirm 
many  of  the  statements  already  made  here,  it  seems  im- 
portant to  add  a  few  words  showing  in  what  sense  quality 
and  pitch,  and  the  melody  and  harmony  resulting  from 
them,  exist  in  both  arts  and  are  subject  to  the  same  laws, 
though  these  are  manifested  in  each  of  them,  because 
designed  for  a  different  purpose,  in  a  different  way. 

As  stated  in  Chapter  VIII.  of  "  Poetry  as  a  Represen- 
tative Art,"  where  the  fact  was  mentioned  in  order  to 
show  the  significance  of  the  sounds  of  speech,  instruments 
have  been  constructed  by  means  of  which  sounds  can  be 
analyzed  and  their  component  tones  distinctly  and  defi- 
nitely noted.  As  a  consequence,  it  has  been  found  that 
every  vowel  has  a  quality  of  its  own  different  from  that 
of  any  other  vowel.  But  quality,  as  will  be  shown  in 
Chapter  XIII.,  is  determined  by  the  pitch  of  different 
partial  tones  which  are  blended  with  the  prime  or  princi- 
pal tone,  and  which  enter  into  it  as  component  parts. 

If,  therefore,  every  vowel  have  a  quality  of  its  own,  does 
it  not  follow  that  it  must  also  have  a  pitch  of  its  own  ? 
This  question  was  answered  in  the  affirmative  some  years 
ago  by  Donders,  who  discovered  that  the  cavity  of  the 
mouth,  when  whispering  each  of  the  different  vowels,  is 
tuned  to  a  different  pitch.  Accordingly,  the  voice,  when 
pronouncing  vowel-sounds,  at  whatever  key  in  the  musi- 
cal scale  it  may  start  them,  has  a  tendency  to  suggest — if 
not  through  its  main,  or  what  is  termed  its  prime  tone, 
at  least  through  associated,  or  what  are  termed  its 
partial  tones — that  pitch  which  is  peculiar  to  the  vowel 
uttered. 

Exactly  what  this  pitch  is,  in  the  case  of  each  vowel,  it 
is  not  important  for  us  to  know  here.  In  fact,  it  has  not 
yet  been  definitely  determined.     Helmholtz,  in  his  "  Sen- 


170  RHYTHM  AND  HARMONY  IN  POETRY  AND  MUSIC. 

sations  of  Tone,"  Part  L,  Ch.  V.,  says  that  the  series,  which 
may  be  represented  in  English  by  a  in  father,  a  in  man,  e 
in  there,  and  tin  machine,  forms  an  ascending  minor  chord 
of  G"— thus:  d",—g'"—b'"flat—d"";  and  the  following 
represents  the  results  of  Merkel's  experiments  with  the 
German  vowels  given  in  his  "  Physiologie  der  Menschli- 
chen  Sprache,"  page  109: 


All  that  concerns  us  at  present  is  the  fact  that  there  is 
a  pitch  peculiar  to  these  vowels.  By  consequence,  when 
different  vowel-sounds  are  heard,  sounds  of  different  pitch 
are  heard,  or  at  least  suggested.  But  besides  this,  the 
consonants,  especially  the  sonants,  m,  n,  I,  y,  r,  b,  v,  d, 
j,  g,  w,  thy  2,  all  necessitate  some  pitch  when  they  are 
pronounced,  and  it  is  not  likely  to  be  the  same  as  that 
suggested  by  their  accompanying  vowel. 

From  these  facts  two  inferences  follow :  First,  that  when- 
ever two  syllables,  whether  containing  sounds  of  different 
vowels  or  consonants  or  of  both,  are  uttered  in  succession, 
we  have  a  succession  of  tones  that  differ  in  pitch.  This  is 
the  same  as  to  say  that  whenever  we  use  consecutively 
words  that  are  not  pronounced  exactly  alike,  we  produce, 
in  just  as  true  a  sense  as  when  singing  a  melody,  an  effect 
of  passing  from  one  pitch  to  another.  The  second  infer- 
ence is  that  whenever  sounds  of  two  different  vowels  or 
of  vowels  and  consonants  that  constitute  a  syllable  are 
uttered  simultaneously,  they  produce  a  blending  of  tones 
that  differ  in  pitch,  or,  in  other  words,  an  effect  corre- 
sponding to  that  which  is  heard  in  musical  harmony.  In- 
deed, the  music  of  the  speaking  voice,  as  distinguished 
from  the  singing,  is  characterized  mainly  by  the  harmony 


Q UALIT Y  AND  PITCH  IN  POETRY  AND  MUSIC.     1 7 1 

that  results  from  this  blending  of  the  consonant-sounds 
with  the  vowel-sounds,  the  latter  being  often  in  singing 
the  only  sounds  that  are  heard,  and  always  the  only  sounds 
that  are  made  prominent.  Of  course,  too,  there  is  a  sense 
in  which  the  utterance  of  the  component  parts  of  any 
single  syllable,  especially  when  these  are  the  two  vowels 
of  a  diphthong,  resembles  more  an  effect  of  quality  than  of 
harmony.  But  sometimes,  as  in  the  case  of  an  inflection 
which  begins  at  one  pitch  and  ends  at  another,  there  are 
suggestions  of  harmony.  Moreover,  it  is  to  be  noted  that 
at  all  times,  as  will  be  shown  in  Chapter  XV.,  the  effects 
of  quality  and  of  harmony  are  in  their  sources  identical. 

The  facts  just  mentioned  are  somewhat  subtle  in  their 
nature,  and  the  reader  may  find  it  difficult  to  recognize 
their  application  to  our  present  subject.  We  now  pass 
on  to  other  facts,  so  apparent  that  they  are  generally 
recognized.  They  are  connected  with  the  emphasis  that 
every  man,  in  talking  or  reading,  gives  to  his  utterances. 
By  means  of  this,  he  causes  his  words  to  slide  upward  or 
downward  in  pitch,  or  he  keeps  them  at  the  same  pitch. 
This  kind  of  emphasis,  as  pointed  out  in  Chapters  II.  and 
VIII.  of  "  Poetry  as  a  Representative  Art,"  is  so  closely 
analogous  to  the  effects  of  musical  melody  that  it  is 
generally  considered  to  be  the  cause  of  them.  (See  the 
music  on  page  172.)  In  the  same  chapters,  as  also  in 
Chapters  III.  and  IV.  of  "  Music  as  a  representative  Art," 
the  particular  phase  of  thought  represented  through  each 
of  the  different  movements  is  also  explained.  This  part 
of  the  subject  is  not  relevant  to  our  present  discussion. 
But  a  consideration  of  the  movements  themselves  is  re- 
levant. For  however  dull  the  inexperienced  ear  may  be 
in  recognizing  the  elements  of  melody  and  harmony  that 
have  already  been  pointed  out,  none  can  fail  to  perceive 
in  the  emphatic  elocutionary  rising  and  falling  of  the  voice, 


172  RHYTHM  AND  HARMONY  IN  POETRY  AND  MUSIC. 


that  which  resembles  a  melody,  nor  in  the  long  inflection 
on  a  single  syllable,  like  an  perhaps,  beginning  with  a 
vowel  and  ending  with  a  consonant,  that  which  suggests 
at  least  the  blending  of  tones  in  harmony. 

The  bearing  of  what  has  been  said  is  that  the  arrange- 
ment of  words  and  of  their  accents  so  as  to  produce 
certain  definite  kinds  of  versification  and  metre,  while 
doing  this,  gives  to  the  verse  at  the  same  time  certain 
definite  effects  of  melody  and  harmony.  In  Chapter 
IX.  of  "  Poetry  as  a  Representative  Art,"  attention  was 
directed  to  the  fact  that  the  pitch  of  the  voice  is  usually 
highest  on  its  accented  syllable.  The  first  syllable  of 
conjure,  for  instance,  is  higher  than  the  second.  The 
second  of  conjure  is  higher  than  the  first.     Accordingly, 

Lines  ended  with  like  effects  of  pitch  in  the  melody  both  of  the  music 

and  verse. 
Falling  or  feminine  endings.  Rising  or  masculine  endings. 

*r-|-rirlT±^qi  -4*-JU4-  »T 


j    Zi- on  stands  with  hills  surrounded,         Zi   -on,     kept   •with  power      di  -    vine;  ) 
{  All  her  foes  shall  be  con-found-ed,        Though  the    world    in    arms     com  -  bine ;  J 


Zion. 


QUALITY  AND  PITCH  IN  POETRY  AND  MUSIC.     1 73 

unless  there  be  some  reason  in  the  sense  for  changing  this 
rule,  the  voice,  in  reading  verse  consecutively,  makes  a 
downward  movement  when  the  last  syllable  of  a  line  is 
unaccented,  and  an  upward  movement  when  it  is  accented. 
Notice  the  music  and  words  on  page  172,  which  are  taken 
from  page  106  of  "  Poetry  as  a  Representative  Art  "  : 

A  corresponding  principle  applies  to  the  accents  or  lack 
of  accents  at  the  beginnings  of  lines.  Accordingly,  a 
different  way  of  closing  or  opening  a  line,  or  the  lengthen- 
ing or  shortening  of  it,  necessitates  a  decided  difference 
in  the  tune  of  the  verse ;  and  when  we  consider  how 
possible  it  is,  even  in  the  same  poem,  to  change  a  metre 
from  double  to  triple  and  quadruple,  and  from  initial  to 
terminal,  median,  and  compound,  as  well  as  to  alter  the 
relative  number  of  feet  in  the  lines,  it  is  evident  that  the 
opportunities  for  varying  these  tunes  are  practically  in- 
finite.    Observe  how  dissimilar  they  are  in  the  following: 

Three  years  she  grew  in  sun  and  shower 
Then  Nature  said  :  "  A  lovelier  flower 

On  earth  was  never  shown  ; 
This  child  I  to  myself  will  take  ; 
She  shall  be  mine,  and  I  will  make 

A  lady  of  my  own. 
—  The  Education  of  Nature  :  Wordsworth. 

Memory's  finger, 

Quick  as  thine, 
Loving  to  linger 

On  the  line, 
Writes  of  another 
Dearer  than  brother : 

Would  that  the  name  were  mine. 

—  Thread  and  Song  :  J.   W.  Palmer, 

Ah,  sad  and  strange  as  in  dark  summer  dawns 
The  earliest  pipe  of  half-awakened  birds 


174  RHYTHM  AND  HARMONY  IN  POETRY  AND  MUSIC. 

To  dying  ears,  when  unto  dying  eyes 

The  casement  slowly  grows  a  glimmering  square  : 

So  sad,  so  strange,  the  days  that  are  no  more. 

—  The  Princess  :  Tennyson. 

Thy  sidelong  pillowed  meekness  ; 

Thy  thanks  to  all  that  aid  ; 
Thy  heart  in  pain  and  weakness 

Of  fancied  faults  afraid  ; 
The  little  trembling  hand 

That  wipes  thy  quiet  tears, — 
These,  these  are  things  that  may  demand 

Dread  memories  for  years. 

—  To  a  Child  during  Sickness  ;  Leigh  Hunt. 

Come  in  the  evening  or  come  in  the  morning  ; 
Come  when  you  're  looked  for  or  come  without  warning  ; 
Kisses  and  welcome  you  '11  find  here  before  you, 
And  the  oftener  you  come  here,  the  more  I  '11  adore  you. 
—  The  Welcome  :  Thomas  Davis. 

O  whistle  and  I  '11  come  to  you,  my  lad, 
O  whistle  and  I  '11  come  to  you,  my  lad  ; 
Tho'  father  and  mither  and  a'  should  gae  mad, 
O  whistle  and  I  '11  come  to  you,  my  lad. 

—  Whistle  and  I  '11  Come  to  You  :  Burns. 

Scots  wha  hae  wi'  Wallace  bled, 
Scots  wham  Bruce  has  aften  led, 
Welcome  to  your  gory  bed, 
Or  to  glorious  victorie  ! 

— Bannockburn  :  Idem. 

'T  is  for  this  they  are  dying  where  the  golden  corn  is  growing, 
'T  is  for  this  they  are  dying  where  the  crowded  herds  are  lowing, 
'T  is  for  this  they  are  dying  where  the  streams  of  life  are  flowing, 
And  they  perish  of  the  plague  where  the  breeze  of  health  is  blowing. 

— Ireland  :  D.  F.  Mac  Car  thy. 

Notice  also  this  same  fact  as  brought  out  by  the  illustra- 
tions of  different  kinds  of  rhythm  given  on  pages  6i  to  89. 


QUALITY  AND  PITCH  IN  POETRY  AND  MUSIC.     175 

Thus  far,  we  have  found  that  poetry  and  music  are  alike 
in  that  both  contain  melody  and  harmony.  But  when 
we  attempt  to  go  beyond  this,  and  to  inquire  in  what 
ways  melody  and  harmony  are  manifested  in  each,  we 
find  great  differences.  This  discovery  is  important,  not 
only  on  its  own  account,  but,  as  we  shall  find  in  another 
place,  on  account  of  the  light  that  it  throws  on  the  corre- 
spondences which  we  should  expect  to  exist  between  har- 
mony of  sound  and  of  color.  That  which  connects  the  arts 
is  the  unity  of  method  underlying  them.  In  each  of  them 
this  method  is  applied  to  a  different  germ.  By  keeping 
this  fact  in  mind  we  shall  be  able  to  recognize,  as  would 
otherwise  be  impossible,  in  what  sense  the  effects  of  har- 
mony in  all  the  arts  are  secured  in  ways  essentially  the 
same. 

The  elements  causing  poetic  harmony  differ  from  those 
causing  musical  harmony  in  this — that  while  any  possible 
tones  can  be  used  in  verse,  only  certain  selected  tones  can 
be  used  in  music,  i.  e.y  in  the  art  of  music  as  we  now  know 
it.  Science  has  ascertained  that  all  tones  whatever  re- 
sult from  vibrations.  Authorities  differ,  but,  according  to 
Helmholtz,  about  33  of  these  vibrations  in  a  second  are 
necessary  in  order  to  render  satisfactorily  distinct  the  low- 
est musical  tone,  and  about  3960  render  so  the  highest. 
Between  these  two  extremes  it  is  conceivable  that  there 
should  be  3927  different  degrees  of  pitch.  Of  these  de- 
grees music  uses  only  about  eighty-four,  twelve  degrees, 
including  whole  and  half  notes,  being  employed  in  each 
of  about  seven  octaves.  As  for  the  speaking  voice,  its 
range  extends  neither  so  low  nor  so  high  as  that  of 
instrumental  music  ;  nevertheless  it  can  use  a  very  much 
larger  number  of  notes.  Suppose  that  we  limit  its  range 
to  two  octaves,  and  take  for  the  lowest  note  the  low  C 


176  RHYTHM  AND  HARMONY  IN  FOE  7 A'  Y  AND  MUSIC. 

of  the  tenor  voice,1  representing  132  vibrations  a  second, 
and  for  the  highest  note  the  C  two  octaves  above  this, 
representing  528  vibrations  a  second.  This  leaves,  be- 
tween the  two  notes,  396  distinct  degrees  of  pitch,  and 
the  reading  voice  is  at  liberty  to  use  all  of  these.  But 
the  singing  voice  within  the  same  range  can  use  only 
twenty-four  of  them. 

What  is  the  cause  of  this  difference?  Why,  within 
these  limits,  are  the  possibilities  of  pitch  in  poetry  prac- 
tically unrestricted,  and  in  music  restricted  so  greatly? 
Undoubtedly  it  is  connected  with  the  fact  that,  in  the 
one,  words  are  used,  and  in  the  other,  at  least  in  instru- 
mental music,  sounds  without  words.  It  would  be  pos- 
sible, of  course,  in  all  cases  to  add  music  to  verse,  that  is, 
to  chant  all  poetry,  as  well  also  as  to  add  words  to 
melody,  and  to  articulate  all  music.  But  this  is  not  done, 
evidently  because  artists  think  it  unnecessary.  Poetry  is 
felt  to  be  one  art  and  music  another.  In  the  first  art 
words  are  used  ;  and  these,  owing  to  their  articulation, 
are  easily  distinguished,  and,  if  similar,  easily  compared. 
Alliteration,  assonance,  rhyme,  phonetic  gradation  in  con- 
nection with  accent,  metre,  and  versification,  furnish  as 
many  opportunities  for  grouping  the  like  partial  effects 
produced  by  unlike  complex  wholes  as  this  art  needs. 
But  when,  as  in  music,  especially  in  that  which  is  instru- 
mental, the  artist  is  compelled  to  use  sounds  that  are  not 
distinguishable  by  articulation,  he  is  obliged,  if  his  effects 
be  aimed  above  the  level  of  the  rhythm  produced  by  the 
taps  of  a  drum,  to  make  more  of  quality  and  pitch.  In 
poetry  these  latter,  although,  as  we  have  found,  necessarily 
involved   in  articulation,  are  accidental   and    secondary. 

1  This  is  merely  a  supposititious  case.  Most  voices,  whether  male  or 
female,  have  their  lowest  note  on  an  E,  F,  G,  or  A,  rather  than  on  C. 


QUALITY  AND  PITCH  IN  POE  TR  Y  AND  MUSIC.      I JJ 

In  music,  they  are  essential  and  primary.  It  may  be 
said  that,  if  it  were  not  for  them,  there  could  be  no  music 
at  all,  as  we  know  it ;  and  this  for  the  very  sufficient 
reason  that,  without  them,  like  or  allied  elements  could 
not  be  grouped  together  in  sufficient  numbers  to  consti- 
tute an  art-form. 

Of  course,  the  early  musicians  could  not  have  explained 
exactly  why  they  selected  certain  notes  and  put  them 
into  a  musical  scale,  and  from  these  began  to  develop 
that  which  has  now  come  to  be  our  elaborated  system  of 
melody  and  harmony.  Those  artists  followed  merely  the 
instincts  of  their  aesthetic  nature.  This  prompted  them, 
in  constructing  forms,  to  select  sounds  that  would  natu- 
rally go  together ;   and  to  use  these  and  these  only. 

But  what  connection  is  there,  it  may  be  asked,  between 
sounds  that  naturally  go  together,  and  those  that  go  to- 
gether because  certain  of  their  effects  are  alike?  None, 
perhaps,  so  far  as  the  first  musicians  were  aware.  They 
judged  merely  by  the  results  that  they  heard,  and  had 
only  a  limited  knowledge  of  the  causes  of  these.  Never- 
theless, as  will  be  shown  presently  from  an  examination 
of  the  discoveries  of  modern  science,  their  ears  guided 
them  aright.  All  the  notes  of  the  scale,  and  all  the 
methods  of  musical  harmony  owe  their  origin  to  a  literal 
fulfilment  of  the  art-principle  declared  in  "The  Genesis 
of  Art-Form  "  to  be  of  universal  applicability.  This  prin- 
ciple is  that  in  order  to  receive  an  impression  of  unity, 
the  mind  groups  complex  wholes  by  putting  those  together 
that  produce  like  partial  effects. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

MUSICAL    MELODY   AND   HARMONY,   AS   DEVELOPED    HIS- 
TORICALLY  ACCORDING   TO   THE   METHODS 
OF  ART-COMPOSITION. 

The  Best  Results  of  Quality,  as  Exemplified  in  the  Human  Voice  and 
Instruments,  Produced  by  a  Blending  of  Like  Effects — In  Pitch,  the 
Same  is  True — But  to  Understand  the  Subject  Thoroughly,  we  should 
Know  the  Causes  of  Quality  and  Pitch — The  Note  and  Half-Note — 
Written  Music  :  the  Staff— Treble  Clef— Bass  Clef— C  Clef— Sharps 
and  Flats — Music  among  the  Greeks — How  Developed  by  Effects  of 
Comparison,  First  by  Way  of  Congruity — The  Gregorian  Chant  an  En- 
deavor to  Imitate  the  Speaking  Voice — Intonation  is  Based  on  Com- 
parison by  way  of  Repetition — Melody,  Developed  from  this,  is  Based 
on  Comparison  by  way  of  Consonance  :  Pythagoras  and  the  Origin  of 
Musical  Scales — Variety,  Introducing  Contrast,  Incongruity  Alteration, 
and  Dissonance,  Necessitates,  for  Unity  of  Effect,  Complement,  Balance, 
Alternation,  and  Interchange — Octaves  as  Sung  Together  by  the  Greeks, 
a  Form  of  Parallelism — Polyphonic  Music,  as  Developed  from  this,  and 
from  Methods  of  Alternation,  Complication,  and  Interchange — Harmo- 
nic Music  Developed  by  a  Renewed  Application  of  the  Methods  of 
Order,  Principality,  etc. — Causes  of  the  Rise  of  Harmonic  Music. 

IV/TUSICAL  tones  may  be  divided  according  to  their 
quality  into  those  produced  by  the  human  voice 
and  by  manufactured  instruments.  The  latter  may  be 
either  instruments  of  percussion  like  drums  and  cymbals, 
stringed  instruments  like  pianofortes  and  violins,  or  wind 
instruments,  which  latter  may  either  have  flue-pipes,  like 
flutes  and  organs,  as  a  rule,  or  reed  pipes,  like  clarionets, 
and  oboes.     There  is  no  need  of  stopping  here  to  describe 

178 


MUSICAL  MELODY  AND  HARMONY.  1 79 

these  different  instruments.  It  is  enough  to  say  that 
where  consecutive  single  notes  are  used,  we  are  best  satis- 
fied if  all  or  a  large  number  of  those  that  are  essential  to 
the  same  melody  are  produced  by  an  instrument  of  the 
same  kind,  thus  fulfilling  the  principle  of  putting  like 
elements  of  sound  together.  For  instance,  even  were  it 
possible,  we  should  hardly  take  pleasure  in  hearing  a  first 
note  of  a  melody  sounded  on  a  violin,  a  second  on  a  flute, 
a  third  on  a  pianoforte,  etc.,  and  this  because  the  effect 
would  lack  congruity,  which,  as  shown  on  page  3,  is  the 
first  condition  enabling  the  mind  to  compare  the  qualities 
of  successive  tones,  and  thus  perceive  unity  in  them.  If, 
however,  instead  of  consecutive  single  notes,  we  hear 
consecutive  chords,  then,  provided  the  same  part  be 
played  in  consecutive  chords  by  the  same  instrument, 
the  more  numerous  the  kinds  of  instruments  used,  the 
more  pleasure,  as  a  rule,  do  we  receive.  A  chorus,  accom- 
panied by  an  orchestra,  is  usually  more  enjoyable  than  a 
single  voice  accompanied  by  a  piano,  and  the  latter  is  more 
enjoyable  than  a  voice  unaccompanied  by  any  instrument. 
The  reason  is  (see  "Art  in  Theory,"  Chapter  XIII.,  page 
160)  that  in  the  chord  of  the  orchestra  the  ear  recognizes, 
and  is  able  to  compare,  a  much  larger  number  of  like  or 
allied  effects.  Moreover,  as  all  these  instruments  are 
sounded  in  successive  chords,  their  music  continues  to 
preserve  from  note  to  note  the  same  general  compound 
quality,  notwithstanding  the  variety  caused  by  differences 
of  pitch  in  the  notes  of  each  chord  and  of  successive 
chords.  It  is  because  the  effect  of  unity,  together  with 
that  of  the  greatest  possible  variety,  is  attained  in  this 
complex  form  of  music  as  in  no  other,  that  the  orchestra 
and  chorus  combined  is  generally  supposed  to  exemplify 
the  highest  possibilities  of  the  art.     (See  page  3.) 


l8o  RHYTHM  AND  HARMONY  IN  POETRY  AND  MUSIC. 

This  fact,  so  apparent  with  reference  to  quality,  is 
equally  apparent  with  reference  to  pitch.  Of  the  hun- 
dreds of  possible  degrees  of  it  between  the  A  of  one  clef 
and,  say,  the  A,  two  octaves  above  this,  which  is  the  ordi- 
nary range  of  a  soprano  voice,  and,  therefore,  usually  the 
range  of  the  notes  of  a  melody  also,  only  twenty-four  can 
be  used ;  and  of  these,  as  a  rule,  only  fifteen  represent 
the  regular  notes  of  the  scale  as  actually  used.  Of  the 
fifteen,  moreover,  few  melodies  use  all,  the  most  of  them 
being  confined  to  only  four  or  five  notes  in  addition  to 
those  contained  in  a  single  octave.  But  if  a  melody  be 
confined  to  ten  or  a  dozen  notes,  every  one  of  these  must 
be  repeated  often  ;  in  other  words,  the  form  of  the  melody 
must  reveal  a  very  large  number  of  like  or  allied  factors. 
An  analogous  statement,  too,  for  analogous  reasons,  may 
be  made  of  the  harmony  accompanying  such  a  melody. 

These  are  facts  which  all  recognize.  But  their  bearing 
upon  the  laws  underlying  the  development  of  melody  and 
harmony  cannot  be  understood,  unless  we  begin  at  the 
bottom  of  our  subject,  and  explain,  as  far  as  possible, 
what  it  is  that  causes  the  differences  observable  in  the 
quality,  or,  as  usually  called,  the  timbre  of  sounds, — what 
it  is,  for  instance,  that  makes  the  human  voice  sound 
unlike  a  flute,  and  a  flute  unlike  a  violin  or  a  pianoforte. 
But  such  explanations  in  their  turn  would  be  unintel- 
ligible to  one  who  did  not  understand  something  about 
musical  pitch  and  notation  as  well  as  a  little  about  the 
history  of  music.  Let  us  turn  aside,  then,  for  a  while, 
even  at  the  risk  of  repeating  what  is  well  known  to  all  but 
the  unmusical,  in  order  to  consider  these. 

As  for  pitch,  we  all  know  that,  when  one  is  singing,  his 
voice  usually  goes  higher  and  lower  than  when  he  is  talk- 
ing.    We  know  too  that  musical  instruments  are  made  to 


MUSICAL   MELODY  AND  HARMONY.  l8l 

sound  higher  and  lower  than  the  speaking  voice.  Pitch, 
therefore,  is  a  very  important  factor  in  music.  Because 
it  is  so,  and  in  order  to  indicate  clearly  any  changes  that 
may  be  made  in  it,  there  has  come  to  be  a  canon  in  musi- 
cal art  that  a  note  shall  glide  into  another  at  a  different 
pitch  not  by  imperceptible  degrees,  as  is  the  case  in  speech, 
but — aside  from  occasional  violin-effects — perceptibly  and 
by  degrees  which  all  musicians  have  agreed  in  using.  These 
degrees  are  separated  from  one  another  by  intervals,  as 
they  are  termed,  of  a  whole  note  or  a  half  note.  Seven  of 
these  degrees,  all  except  two  of  which  are  separated  by 
intervals  of  whole  notes,  constitute  what  is  known  as  the 
musical  scale  (from  the  Latin  sca/a,  a  ladder).  Certain 
definite  degrees  of  pitch,  which  musicians  represent  by 
the  letters  CDEFGABC,  correspond  exactly  to  the 
notes  of  this  scale.  Between  C  and  D,  D  and  E,  F  and 
G,  G  and  A,  and  A  and  B,  there  are  also  half-notes  that 
are  sometimes  used,  making  eleven  sounds  in  all  between 
C  and  C.  The  lowest  of  this  series  of  sounds  is  the  high- 
est C  in  a  scale  below  it,  each  note  of  which  lower  scale 
is  just  an  octave,  as  it  is  called,  lower  in  pitch  than  the 
note  represented  by  the  same  letter  in  the  higher  scale. 
In  instrumental  music,  about  four  scales  or  octaves  are 
used  below  the  middle  C,  the  approximate  pitch  of 
which  is  established  by  mutual  agreement ;  and  about 
three  scales  are  used  above  it. 

In  writing  music,  a  line  was  formerly  used  to  represent 
a  certain  pitch,  and  notes  of  a  higher  pitch  were  indicated 
in  spaces  or  on  broken  lines  above  this,  and  notes  of  a 
lower  pitch  below  it,  e.g. : 

J  J 


^l^Oj  j  .; 


1 82  RHYTHM  AND  HARMONY  IN  POETRY  AND  MUSIC. 

At  present,  five  parallel  lines,  termed  a  staff,  are  used, 
with  broken  lines,  if  necessary,  above  or  below  the  staff. 
Notice  the  staves  on  this  page. 

The  figure  m===  indicates  the  treble-clef,  as  it  is  called  ; 
•J 
or  the  sol-clef,  by  which  is  meant  that  the  line  encircled  by 

the  main  curve  of  the  figure  represents  the  pitch  of  the 
note  sol  in  that  scale  the  do  of  which  is  at  middle  C.  It  is 
also  called  the  G  clef,  because  the  line  encircled  represents 
the  pitch  of  the  lower  G  used  by  a  soprano  voice  in  sing- 
ing. Calculating  from  this  G,  it  is  easy  to  determine  the 
pitch  represented  by  the  other  lines  and  spaces,  e.  g. : 


■b=c: 


^:E:-F.:G:^:^  = 


D    C-  -R  nr: 


The  figure    ||  indicates  the   bass   clef,  as   it   is 

called,  or  the  fa-clef,  because  the  main  curve  of  the 
figure  is  made  about  the  line  representing  the  note  fa 
in  that  scale  the  do  of  which  is  at  the  lowest  C  ordinarily 
used  by  the  male  voice.  It  is  also  called  the  F  clef  because 
this  curve  is  made  about  the  line  representing  the  middle 
F  used  by  the  bass  voice.  The  notes  above  and  below 
this  are  then  as  follows : 


A-B- 


.C-  -D.  £l  ±l 


E-  -F.  ■£-: 


P^EE^EgEj 


-c-w 


:A=U- 


F---E 


:c- 


The  G  clef  and  the  F  clef  together  enable  us  to  write 
out  all  ordinary  music,  e.  g. : 


MUSICAL  MELODY  AND  HARMONY.  1 8 


Besides  these,  a  do-c\ei  or  C  clef  is  sometimes  placed 
on  either  the  first,  third,  or  fourth  line  of  the  staff; 
and  indicates  that  the  note  C  is  on  the  line  which  it 
incloses.  When  on  the  first  line  the  clef  is  also  called 
the  soprano ;  when  on  the  third  line,  the  alto ;  and  when 
on  the  fourth  line,  the  tenor. 


First, 


T*1^  B 


Fourth  jig 

line. 


To  this  it  may  be  well  to  add  that,  whenever  it  is  de- 
sired to  use  the  half  tones  between  C  and  D,  D  and  E, 
and  so  on,  one  of  two  different  courses  is  adopted.  Either 
a  sharp,  represented  thus  g,  is  placed  on  a  line  or  space, 
indicating  that  the  note  to  which  it  is  attached  is  to  be 
sounded  half  a  tone  above  where  it  is  written ;  or  a  flat, 
represented  thus  \>,  is  placed  on  a  line  or  space,  indicating 
that  the  note  is  to  be  sounded  half  a  tone  below  where  it 
is  written.  In  printed  music,  the  two  following  arrange- 
ments represent  the  same  notes,  the  one  moving  up  the 
scale,  the  other  down. 


1 [— 

1         1         1         1       J 

M 

! 1 1 V— 4- 

-S-  -git — *— $#-    *- 

CD                   E 

0            m         Urn             J         h     ' 

F 

1        '  1 

—J — gj * — J* *— 

GAB 

— i 1 ' i r* 

H — 

c 

1 1 1 

—J — bJ- 

-*— ^— w — J-V- 

— \- — ■ 

1 84  RHYTHM  AND  HARMONY  IN  POETRY  AND  MUSIC. 

These  sharps  or  flats,  when  used  uniformly  throughout  a 
composition,  are  placed  at  the  beginning  of  the  staff  and 
not  before  each  note,  as  in  the  example  just  given  ;  e.  g. : 


g^gl 


ife 


m 


When  a  sharp  or  flat  has  been  used  on  a  line  or  space, 
and  a  following  note  is  not  intended  to  be  made  sharp 
or  flat,  a  character  termed  a  natural  £  is  used  to  indicate 
this  fact ;  e.g.: 


-$*— to 


jN^ 


This  brief  explanation  of  musical  notation  will  prepare 
us  to  go  back  as  far  as  is  possible,  to  the  beginnings  of 
music,  and  notice  certain  different  stages  in  its  history 
which  will  enable  us  to  understand  why  it  has  developed 
as  it  has.  The  Greeks  chanted  or  sang  their  poetry.  The 
accents  (from  ad  and  cano,  to  sing  to)  used  with  their 
words  indicated,  as  do  elocutionary  marks  with  us,  the 
movements  of  their  voices  in  doing  this.  "We  must  re- 
member," says  A.  J.  Ellis,  in  one  of  the  notes  to  his 
translation  of  Helmholtz's  work  on  "  The  Sensations  of 
Tone,"  page  366,  "  that  the  Greek  and  Latin  so-called 
accents  consisted  solely  in  alternations  of  pitch,  and  hence 
to  a  certain  extent  determined  a  melody.  See  Dionysus 
of  Halicarnassus  nepii  GwdeGeaos  ovojxoltgdv,  Chapter  XI." 
But  if  the  written  accents  in  Greek  and  the  accents  as  de- 
termined by  the  rules  of  grammarians  in  Latin  are  care- 
fully examined,  it  will  be  found  that  every  line  in  a  Greek 


MUSICAL   MELODY  AND  HARMONY.  1 85 

or  Latin  poem  had  its  own  distinct  melody,  the  art  of  the 
poet  being  shown  by  the  great  variations  in  pitch  which 
he  was  able  to  combine  with  a  certain  quantity  or  rhythm. 
"  It  would  not  be  difficult,"  adds  Ellis,  on  page  367, 
"  for  any  one  with  a  little  musical  skill  and  the  help  of  a 
common  Greek  lyre,  to  extemporize  {i.e.  in  reciting  an 
ordinary  Greek  stanza  written  with  accents)  an  effective 
recitative,  especially  if  the  rising  and  falling  intervals  were 
varied."  Undoubtedly  in  the  early  forms  of  music,  inas- 
much as  the  voice  was  required  to  harmonize  with  only 
certain  simple  and  single  notes  sounded  on  the  lyre,  each 
singer  could  lengthen  and  shorten  his  inflections  at  will, 
and  thus  vary  his  melodies  in  ways  not  allowable  in 
modern  music. 

Here  we  find  indicated,  as  nearly  as  can  be,  the  condi- 
tions of  things  when  music  as  an  art  began.  Notice  how 
they  accord  with  what  was  unfolded  in  "  The  Genesis  of 
Art-Form."  There  it  was  shown  that  the  mental  desire  of 
the  mind  for  unity  first  manifests  itself  in  the  direction  of 
comparison,  resulting  in  an  endeavor,  so  far  as  possible,  to 
put  like  effects  with  like.  It  was  also  shown  that  com- 
parison first  manifests  itself  byway  of  congruity,  resulting 
from  grouping  forms  together  because  representative  of 
like  significance.  Would  it  not  be  strictly  in  accordance 
with  this  fact  that  the  beginnings  of  artistic  unity  in  these 
early  Greek  melodies  would  be  determined  by  the  fitness 
of  certain  like  effects  in  them  to  express  certain  like  senti- 
ments, such  as  those  of  joy  or  sadness,  triumph  or  de- 
spondency ?  Plato's  "  Republic,"  III. ,  10,  indicates  clearly 
that  they  were  so  determined.  The  fact,  too,  that  they 
grew  out  of  the  requirements  of  recitation  would  neces- 
sarily cause  the  movements  of  the  tones  to  resemble  the 
intonations  natural  to  the  voice  in  speaking  the  words 


I  86   RHYTHM  AND  HARMONY  IN  POETRY  AND  MUSIC. 


used.  And  what  is  true  of  the  Greek  melodies  is  true,  so 
far  as  can  be  ascertained,  of  all  primitive  and  original 
forms  of  melody.  The  Gregorian  chants  contain  rules 
like  the  following : 


Sic      can  -  ta     com  -  ma, 
Thus  siug    the    com  -  ma 


sic       du   -   o     punc  -  ta: 
and    thus    the      co  -  Ion: 


sic     ve  -  to     punc-tum. 
and   thus  the    full  stop. 


Sic 

Slg     - 

num 

in     - 

ter      ■ 

ro 

■     ga 

Thus 

sing 

the 

mark 

of 

in    - 

-     ter 

o       -      nis." 
ga     -       tion 


Whether  Pope  Gregory  (a.D.  590  to  604),  originated 
these  methods,  or  derived  them  from  Pope  Sylvester 
(a.D.  314  to  335),  as  is  sometimes  said,  or  from  St.  Am- 
brose (a.D.  341  to  397),  or  whether  all  of  these  derived 
them  from  the  ancient  Romans  or  Greeks, — in  any  case, 
that  desire  to  imitate  the  natural  intonations  of  the  speak- 
ing voice,  to  which  they  owe  their  origin,  is  very  apparent. 
A  similar  desire  has  evidently  actuated  composers 
wherever  there  has  been  a  fresh  development  of  the  pos- 
sibilities of  melody,  as  is  exemplified  not  only  in  the  reci- 
tativos  of  Giacomo  Peri  of  the  sixteenth  century,  but  in 
the  operas  of  Wagner  of  our  own  time. 

While  this  is  the  case,  however,  melody,  when  once 
originated  or  started  in  a  new  direction,  soon  gets  beyond 
imitating  the  intonations  of  speech.  Variations  of  pitch, 
when  made  to  differ  at  all  from  those  used  in  talking, 
soon  come  to  differ  from  them,  if  not  entirely,  at  least 
greatly,  and  this  for  the  sake  of  the  tune.  Now  what  is 
the  earliest  form  of  tune  ?  As  stated  in  "  Art  in  Theory  " 
Chapter  XX.,  the  fundamental  difference  between  song  and 
speech  is  the  same  as  between  sustained  tones  and  unsus- 
tained.     The  earliest  form  of  tune  is  that  of  the  recitative. 


MUSICAL  MELODY  AND  HARMONY.  1 87 

in  which  the  voice  begins  to  chant  the  words  and  pro- 
long them,  as  in  what  we  term  intonation.  What  is 
the  chief  characteristic  of  intonation  ?  Look  back  at 
the  Gregorian  chant.  Listen  to  the  service  in  ritualistic 
churches.  Its  chief  characteristic  is  repetition.  The  same 
artistic  tendency  that  leads  the  voice  to  dwell  on  the 
tone,  leads  it  to  dwell  on  like  tones.  Comparison  by  way 
of  congruity  passes  thus,  as  we  should  expect,  first  of  all 
into  comparison  by  way  of  repetition.     See  page  3. 

After  a  time,  however,  but  much  later,  intonation  is 
developed  into  the  completed  artistic  form  of  melody. 
The  basis  of  this  is  comparison  by  way  of  consonance,  in- 
cluding, however,  much  both  of  congruity  and  repetition. 
Quite  early  in  the  history  of  Greek  music  we  find  Pythag- 
oras (B.C.  540  to  510)  asking  the  reason  of  the  laws  of 
musical  consonance,  showing  that,  even  in  his  time,  interest 
was  taken  in  the  relations  of  pitch  irrespective  of  congru- 
ity or  the  sentiment  represented  by  them,  or  of  the  repe- 
titions of  intonation.  Pythagoras  had  learned,  as  well 
probably  from  the  Egyptians  as  from  his  own  experi- 
ments, that  strings  of  different  lengths  but  of  the  same 
substance,  when  subjected  to  the  same  strain,  would  give 
perfect  consonances  if  their  respective  lengths  were  in 
the  ratio  of  1 :  2,  2  :  3,  or  3  :  4.  Later  physicists  have  ex- 
tended this  law  to  apply  to  the  ratios  4 :  5  and  5  : 6,  but, 
with  what  he  knew,  Pythagoras  constructed  a  musical 
scale  containing  four  of  the  notes  used  in  our  scale  of  to- 
day. Subsequently  (see  page  203),  he  extended  his  scale 
until  it  contained  seven  notes  differing  somewhat,  yet  not 
greatly,  from  the  seven  represented  by  our  own  C  D  E  F 
G  A  B  C.  To  the  notes  of  the  scale,  Guido  of  Arezzo,  a 
Benedictine  monk  of  the  eleventh  century,  gave  the 
names  ut,  re,  mi,  fa,  sol,  la,  si,  and  ut,  taking  the  first  six 


1 88  RHYTHM  AND  HARMONY  IN  POETRY  AND  MUSIC. 

of  the  names  from  the  initial  syllables  of  six  successive 
lines  of  a  hymn  to  St.  John,  which  lines  happened  to  be- 
gin on  the  six  successive  notes  of  the  scale,  now  named 
after  them.     These  are  the  lines  : 

Ut  queant  laxis 
Re-sonare  fibris 
Mi-ra  gestorum 
Fa-muli  tuorum 
Sol-ve  polluti 
La-bii  reatum,  etc. 

To  these  syllables  Guido  added  si,  and  subsequently  ut 
was  changed  to  do.  This  was  the  origin  of  the  solfeggio, 
as  it  was  called,  and  which  still  exists  in  our  do,  re,  mi,  fa, 
sol,  la,  si,  do. 

So  much  for  the  names  used  in  the  scale.  But  we  have 
not  yet  explained  why  its  notes  are  pitched  as  they  are. 
To  do  this,  necessitates  our  tracing  further  the  influence 
in  this  art  of  the  methods  underlying  composition.  The 
chart  on  page  3  will  show  that,  as  affected  by  the  variety 
in  nature,  comparison,  congruity,  repetition,  and  consonance 
are,  respectively,  opposed  by  contrast,  incongruity,  altera- 
tion, and  dissonance.  Undoubtedly,  to  avoid  these  latter 
effects  is  the  unconscious  reason  underlying  the  very  great 
likeness  of  tone  that  characterizes  intonation.  For  what 
is  intonation,  as  mainly  employed  in  our  own  day,  but  an 
expression  of  formalism  carried  to  its  extreme  ?  What  is 
it  but  the  result  of  a  desire  to  secure  almost  absolute 
unity  of  impression  in  the  church  services?  But  when 
there  is  a  departure  from  absolute  unity  by  the  admission 
into  the  form  of  contrast  and  methods  allied  to  it,  there  is, 
as  we  have  found,  no  longer  in  any  of  the  arts  any  possibil- 
ity of  unity  of  effect,  aside  from  the  use  of  the  methods 
in  the  third  column  in  the  list  on  page  3,  namely,  counter- 


MUSICAL   MELODY  AND  HARMONY.  IS9 

action,  complement,  balance,  parallelism,  alternation,  and 
interchange,  which  last  in  connection  with  consonance, 
develops  into  completed  harmony. 

The  beginnings  of  the  latter  condition  among  the  Greeks 
are  indicated  as  follows.  Aristotle  asks  (Problems  xix., 
18)  :  "  Why  is  the  consonance  of  only  the  octave  sung  ?  " 
and  again  (Prob.  xix.,  39):  "  This  singing  occurs  when 
young  boys  and  men  sing  together,  and  their  tones  differ 
as  the  highest  from  the  lowest  of  the  scale."  Owing 
to  passages  like  these,  scholars  have  held  that  the  Greek 
chorus  was  what  is  generally  termed  homophonic ;  or,  in 
other  words,  that  it  had  no  harmonies  in  the  broad  sense 
in  which  the  word  is  now  used — only  such  consonances  as 
can  be  produced  by  the  use  of  the  octave.  Their  men 
could  sing  at  the  same  time  as  their  boys  and  women,  but 
all  had  to  sing  the  same  part,  though  separated  by  an  oc- 
tave— furnishing  thus,  as  will  be  recognized,  a  perfect 
exemplification  of  musical  parallelism.  It  is  not  necessary 
to  suppose,  however,  that  harmony  was  entirely  lacking 
in  the  Greeks'  instrumental,  or  even  vocal,  music.  The 
strings  of  their  lyres  would  sometimes  be  sounded  to- 
gether, if  only  by  accident.  This  would  produce  a  chord. 
A  chord,  once  heard,  would  be  repeated.  Therefore 
chords  probably  accompanied  the  Greeks'  singing.  But, 
ignorant,  as  they  were,  of  the  laws  of  harmonic  sequence, 
their  chords,  except  as  accompaniments  to  a  melody, 
would  not  produce  unity,  or  even  consonance  of  effect. 
This  is  probably  why  Plato,  in  the  "  Republic,"  III.,  11, 
enjoins  simplicity  in  music,  and  the  subservience  of  har- 
mony and  rhythm  to  the  sentiment  expressed  in  the 
melody.     See  "  Art  in  Theory,"  Ap.  II.,  pp.  250  and  251. 

Music  like  that  of  the  Greeks,  in  which  there  was 
only    a    slight   development    of    what    we    should    term 


I90  RHYTHM  AND  HARMON Y  IN  POETRY  AND  MUSIC. 

harmony,  continued  until  the  middle  ages.  But  in  the 
eleventh  century,  musicians  in  France  and  Flanders  be- 
gan to  try  experiments  in  what  has  since  been  termed 
polyphonic  music.  This  was  produced  by  causing  two  or 
more  separate  melodies  to  be  sung  or  played  at  the  same 
time.  It  is  not  necessary  to  argue  that  this  form  of  music 
was  developed  in  fulfilment  of  the  methods  arranged  on 
page  3,  in  the  column  in  which  are  complement,  balance, 
parallelism,  complication,  and  interchange.  Orlando  Lasso, 
the  last  and  chief  composer  in  this  form,  is  said  to  have 
combined  thus  as  many  as  five  melodies. 

Such  music,  however,  gradually  and  almost  necessarily, 
led  to  the  harmonic  music  of  the  present.  In  this  there 
is  usually  one  melody  with  which  all  the  other  notes  of  the 
composition  are  made  to  chord — in  other  words,  in  this 
form  of  music,  the  methods  on  page  3  in  the  same  column 
as  order  and  principality,  assert  themselves  to  overcome 
the  polyphonic  tendencies  toward  confusion  and  keep 
them  in  artistic  subordination.  Could  any  historic  facts 
confirm  more  satisfactorily  the  theories  of  this  book  with 
reference  to  the  general  methods  in  accordance  with  which 
musical  art  develops  ? 

One  main  impetus  to  the  development  of  harmony  was 
the  Protestant  Reformation,  and  the  demand  that  arose, 
in  consequence  of  it,  for  a  form  of  choral  that  could  be 
sung  by  congregations  in  unison  with  an  organ  accom- 
paniment. Another  was  the  great  abuse  of  polyphonic 
music  that  after  a  time  crept  into  the  Catholic  services,  in 
that  the  words  of  church  music,  because  they  could  never 
be  understood  as  sung  in  the  different  melodies  combined, 
came  often  to  be  those  of  popular  songs.  A  third  reason 
was  the  desire  aroused  everywhere  about  that  period  to 
imitate  any  method  supposed  to  be  Hellenic.     The  first 


MUSICAL  MELODY  AND  HARMONY. 


I9I 


great  master  of  the  new  method  was  Palestrina,  a  pupil  of 
the  Huguenot  Claude  Goudimel,  who  was  slain  in  the 
massacre  of  St.  Bartholomew.  Palestrina's  harmonies,  how- 
ever, are  very  elementary,  passing  from  one  key  to  another 
with  little  or  no  attempt  to  carry  out  any  of  those  princi- 
ples with  reference  to  sequence  in  sound,  which  must  be 
followed  in  order  to  render  a  composition  satisfactory  to  a 
modern  ear.  Here  is  the  opening  of  his  "  Stabat 
Mater  "  : 


From  such  crude  beginnings,  however,  all  the  elaborate 
system  of  modern  harmony  has  been  developed. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

MUSICAL   SCALES    AS    DEVELOPED    BY   THE    ART-METHOD 

OF    GROUPING    LIKE    PARTIAL    EFFECTS    OF 

UNLIKE   COMPLEX   WHOLES. 

As  Harmony  is  Developed  from  Melody,  to  Understand  Music,  we  must 
First  Learn  why  Certain  Notes  are  Fitted  to  Follow  One  Another — 
Scales  Constructed  from  the  Sense  of  Hearing,  and  All  Scales  Similar, 
Therefore  the  Same  Law  Underlies  them — Sounds  Differ  in  Quality — 
Musical  Sounds  Result  from  Regularly  Periodic  Vibrations — Differ- 
ences in  Loudness  from  the  Different  Amplitude  of  Vibrations,  and  in 
Pitch,  from  the  Different  Time  of  Vibrations — Differences  in  Quality 
from  the  Different  Combinations  of  Vibrations — Vibrations  Com- 
pounded, and  Each  of  the  Compounds  Introduces  into  the  Tone  a  Pitch 
or  Partial  Tone  of  its  Own — Law  of  Sequence  of  the  Upper  Partial 
Tones  of  Musical  Note's — Example  in  Music — Correspondence  of  the 
Earliest  Greek  Scale  with  the  Chief  Partial  Tones  of  its  Keynote — 
And  of  our  Own  Major  Scale — A  Possible  Scale  of  Ten  Notes— Our 
Minor  Scale — These  Scales  All  Constructed  on  the  Principle  of  Group- 
ing Like  Partial  Effects  of  Unlike  Complex  Wholes — The  Method  in 
which  the  Greeks,  Ignorant  of  Partial  Tones,  were  Guided  to  these  Re- 
sults by  their  Sense  of  Hearing — How  they  Constructed,  by  Measuring 
the  Length  of  Strings,  the  Lyre  of  Orpheus — Similar  Results  Reached 
by  the  Moderns  through  Counting  Vibrations,  and  the  Resulting 
Ratios — The  Ratios  of  the  Chinese  Scale  of  Six  Notes  as  Developed 
by  the  Ancients — The  Ratios  of  the  Greek  Scale  of  Seven  Notes — 
Other  Greek  Scales — Deficiencies  of  the  Greek  Scale  and  the  Develop- 
ment of  the  Modern  Scales — Comparison  oetween  the  Ratios  of  these 
and  of  the  Pythagorean  Scale — The  Keys  of  the  Piano  and  the  Scales 
Played  from  the  Different  Keynotes — The  Temperate  Scale  of  the 
Present,  and  its  Ratios  as  Compared  with  the  Pythagorean,  the  Major, 
and  the  Minor. 

"OERHAPS  the  most  significant  facts  for  us  to  observe 
in  the  history  of  music,  as  briefly  sketched  in  Chap- 
ter XIII.,  are,  first,  that  harmony  was  developed  from 
melody,  not  melody  from  harmony ;  and,  second,  that 
harmony  was  developed  for  the  purpose  of  giving  greater 

192 


MUSICAL   SCALES.  I93 

prominence  and  intelligibility  to  the  words  used  in  con- 
nection with  the  music.  The  first  of  these  facts  is  the 
one  that  has  the  most  bearing  upon  our  present  consid- 
eration of  the  subject.  We  learn  from  it  that  when  the 
Greeks  found  that  consonances  are  made  by  strings,  the 
lengths  of  which  are  in  the  ratios  of  one  to  two,  two  to 
three,  and  three  to  four  ;  and  when  they  formed  that  mus- 
ical scale  which  is  still  to  a  great  extent  our  own  ;  they  did 
so  to  meet  the  requirements  of  melody,  of  notes  following 
one  another,  not  of  notes  sounded  simultaneously  in 
chords.  Accordingly,  if  we  wish  to  discover  the  reason 
why  they  formed  the  scale  as  they  did,  we  must  discover 
why  the  notes  of  that  scale  are  fitted  to  follow  one 
another. 

Of  course  the  Greeks,  in  constructing  their  scale,  were 
guided  by  the  sense  of  hearing,  just  as  modern  musicians 
have  been  guided  by  it  in  constructing  their  systems  of 
harmony.  But  why  did  the  sense  of  hearing  guide  the 
Greeks  in  the  particular  way  in  which  it  did,  and  why, 
as  will  be  shown  to  be  the  case,  do  the  Chinese  and  other 
people,  whose  music  has  developed  independently,  as 
well  as  we  ourselves  to-day,  use  what  is  essentially  a 
similar  scale  ?  What  is  the  acoustic  law  that  necessi- 
tates sequences  of  sounds  of  the  kind  found  in  this  scale? 
It  is  only  in  very  recent  times,  owing  mainly  to  the 
researches  of  the  great  German  physicist  Helmholtz,  that 
it  has  been  possible  to  give  any  satisfactory  answer  to 
such  a  question.  It  seems  now,  however,  as  if  it  could 
be  done.     Let  us,  at  least,  make  an  attempt  to  do  so. 

All  must  have  noticed  that  the  sounds  of  instruments, 

of  flutes,  violins,  and  pianofortes,  as  well  as  those  of  the 

human  voice,  differ  in  what,  for  the  present,  in  a  vague 

way,  we  may  term  quality.    One  reason  for  this  difference 
13 


194  RHYTHM  AND  HARMONY  IN  POETR  Y  AND  MUSIC. 

undoubtedly  is  the  fact  that,  in  connection  with  the 
sound  of  the  flute,  we  hear  the  escaping  of  the  breath ; 
with  that  of  the  violin,  the  scrapings  of  the  bow;  with 
that  of  the  piano,  the  strokes  of  the  hammers.  Yet  if  we 
stand  so  far  away  from  these  instruments  that  the  noises 
made  by  the  breath,  bow,  and  hammers  are  inaudible,  we 
are  still  able  to  distinguish  the  tone  not  only  of  each 
different  kind  of  instrument,  but  sometimes  of  each  dif- 
erent  instrument  of  the  same  kind.  It  is  certainly  so  in 
the  case  of  human  voices.  Now  what  is  it  that  causes 
this  difference  in  quality  ? 

To  answer  this  question  we  must  understand  first  what 
a  musical  sound  is,  what  is  the  difference  between  it  and 
a  noise.  "  A  noise,"  says  Helmholtz  ("  The  Sensations 
of  Tone,"  page  12)  "  is  accompanied  by  a  rapid  alterna- 
tion of  different  kinds  of  sensations  of  sound.  Think,  for 
example,  of  the  rattling  of  a  carriage  over  granite  paving- 
stones,  the  splashing  or  seething  of  a  waterfall,  or  of  the 
waves  of  the  sea,  or  the  rustling  of  leaves  in  a  wood.  In 
all  of  these  cases  we  have  rapid  irregular,  but  distinctly 
perceptible  alternations  of  various  kinds  of  sound,  which 
crop  up  fitfully.  When  the  wind  howls,  the  alternation 
is  slow,  the  sound  slowly  and  gradually  rises,  and  then 
falls  again.  .  .  .  On  the  other  hand,  a  musical  tone 
strikes  the  ear  as  a  perfectly  undisturbed  uniform  sound 
which  remains  unaltered  as  long  as  it  exists,  and  it  pre- 
sents no  alterations  of  various  kinds  of  constituents.  To 
this,  then,  corresponds  a  simple  regular  kind  of  sensation, 
whereas  in  a  noise  many  various  sensations  of  musical 
tone  are  irregularly  mixed  up  and,  as  it  were,  tumbled 
about  in  confusion.  .  .  .  The  normal  and  usual  means 
of  excitement  for  the  human  ear  is  atmospheric  vibration. 
The  irregularly  alternating  sensations  of  the  ear  in  the 


MUSICAL    SCALES.  1 95 

case  of  noises  leads  us  to  conclude  that  for  these  the 
vibrations  of  the  air  must  also  change  irregularly.  For 
musical  tones,  on  the  other  hand,  we  anticipate  a  regular 
motion  of  the  air,  continuing  uniformly  and  in  its  turn 
excited  by  an  equally  regular  motion  of  the  sonorous 
body  whose  impulses  were  conducted  to  the  ear  by  the 
air.  Those  regular  motions  which  produce  musical  sound 
have  been  exactly  investigated  by  physicists.  They  are 
oscillations,  vibrations,  or  swings,  that  is  up-and-down  or 
to-and-fro  motions  of  sonorous  bodies,  and  it  is  necessary 
that  these  oscillations  should  be  regularly  periodic.  By  a 
periodic  motion  we  mean  one  which  constantly  returns 
to  the  same  condition  after  exactly  equal  intervals  of 
time.  .  .  .  The  kind  of  motion  of  the  moving 
body  during  one  period  is  perfectly  indifferent 
but  .  .  .  the  sensation  of  a  musical  tone  is  due  to 
a  rapid  periodic  motion  of  the  sonorous  body,  the  sensa- 
tion of  a  noise  to  non-periodic  motions." 

That  musical  sounds  are  caused,  or,  at  least,  accom- 
panied, by  vibrations  has  been  known  for  centuries. 
These  vibrations  may  be  recognized  by  the  eye  in  large 
strings,  and  by  the  touch  in  large  reeds  and  pipes  ;  and 
the  experiments  of  physicists  have  placed  the  fact  as  ap- 
plied to  all  sounds  beyond  a  doubt.  It  has  long  been 
known,  too,  that  differences  in  the  degrees  of  force  in 
sounds,  i.  e.y  in  loudness  and  softness,  are  due  to  the  size, 
or  amplitude  of  these  vibrations ;  a  cord  struck  with  more 
force  than  another  producing  a  louder  sound  because  it 
vibrates,  and  causes  the  air  to  vibrate,  farther  from  side  to 
side.  It  has  long  been  known  also  that  differences  in 
pitch  are  caused  by  differences  in  the  time  in  which  peri- 
odic vibrations  are  made.  This  has  been  unmistakably 
proved,  among  other  ways,  by  the  use  of  Cagniard  de  la 


1 96  RHYTHM  AND  HARMONY  IN  POETR  Y  AND  MUSIC. 

Tour's  siren.  In  this,  air  is  forced  from  a  cylinder 
through  holes  occurring  at  regular  intervals  in  a  revolving 
disc,  connected  with  which  there  is  a  clock-like  arrange- 
ment registering  the  number  of  interruptions  made  in  the 
current  of  air.  When  the  disc  is  revolving  rapidly  a  con- 
tinuous musical  sound  is  produced.  In  such  cases,  the 
number  of  interruptions  represents,  of  course,  the  number 
of  separate  vibrations  composing  the  sound  at  the  pitch 
that  is  heard.  To  apply  this  principle  to  the  effects  of  a 
cord ;  its  whole  length  sounds  a  note,  as  ascertained  by 
Pythagoras,  just  an  octave  below  its  half  length,  because, 
in  the  former  case,  it  vibrates  exactly  twice  as  slowly  as 
in  the  latter. 

After  physicists  had  proved  that  degrees  of  loudness  in 
sound  are  determined  by  the  amplitude  of  vibrations,  and 
degrees  of  pitch  by  the  time  of  vibrations,  they  felt  that 
nothing  was  left  to  determine  the  quality  of  sounds  ex- 
cept the  form  of  vibrations.  It  was  easy,  too,  for  them 
to  imagine  that  these  should  differ  in  form.  For  instance, 
when  a  bow  is  drawn  across  the  strings  of  a  violin,  it  may 
fall  upon  them,  giving  them  an  up-and-down  motion  ;  it 
may  move  over  them,  giving  them  a  motion  from  side  to 
side  ;  it  may  turn  them,  giving  them  a  twisting  motion  ; 
it  may  bound  over  them,  giving  them  a  jarring  motion  ; 
or  it  may  do  all  these  together ;  besides  which,  wherever 
it  touches  the  strings  it  may  check  the  movements  caused 
by  vibrations  of  their  entire  length,  and  cause  smaller 
waves  between  the  points  where  they  are  played  upon  by 
the  bow  and  where  they  are  attached  to  the  violin.  Ac- 
cording to  a  similar  mode  of  reasoning,  it  was  natural  to 
suppose  that  the  waves  of  sound  produced  by  a  wind  in- 
strument, like  a  trumpet,  or  human  throat,  for  instance, 
deviated  as  they  are  from  a  straight  course  by  a  number 


MUSICAL   SCALES. 


I97 


of  curves  and  angles,  must  necessarily  be  more  or  less  com- 
pound as  they  emerge  from  the  instruments  ;  and,  being 
so,  must  differ  in  form  for  different  kinds  of  instruments. 
Considerations  of  this  sort  caused  investigations  to  be 
made  into  the  nature  of  vibrations  ;  and  by  means  of  very 
ingenious  expedients, — by  magnifying,  for  example,  the 
vibrations  of  a  cord  or  pipe,  and  making  them  visible, 
through  using  an  intense  ray  of  light  to  throw  an  image 
of  them  upon  a  canvas  in  a  darkened  room, — the  forms 
assumed  by  the  vibrations  caused  by  many  of  the  ordi- 
nary musical  instruments  have  been  accurately  ascer- 
tained. These  forms  have  been  resolved,  according  to 
well-known  mathematical  principles,  into  their  constituent 
elements.  For  instance,  if  the  form  of  vibration  be  as  in 
the  first  of  these  examples,  it  may  be  resolved  into  the 
forms  that  are  in  the  second. 


(I 


M 


/((f  Tlh     j 

1       :J 

C\     'X-^- 

1 

In  short,  investigations  of  this  character  have  shown 
that  musical  sounds  may  result,  and  usually  do  result,  not 
from  simple,  but  from  compound  forms  of  vibrations ;  that 
is  to  say,  in  connection  with  the  main  waves  there  are 
other  waves.  All  of  these  are  not  invariably  present,  but 
when  present  they  are  related  to  the  main  one — i.  e.t  in 
tones  that  make  music  as  distinguished  from  noise — as 
2:1,  3:1,  4:1,  5:1,6:1,  7  :  1,  8  :  1,  9 :  1,  and  even  in 
some    cases    as    10  :  1.     In    other   words,    these    smaller 


I98   RHYTHM  AND  HARMONY  IN  POETR  Y  AND  MUSIC. 

accompanying  waves  vibrate  twice,  thrice,  and  four  times, 
and  so  on  up  to  ten  times,  while  the  main  wave  is  vibrat- 
ing once.  But  this  is  not  all.  The  sounds  of  these  com- 
pound vibrations  have  been  analyzed.  By  means  of 
instruments  like  Helmholtz's  resonators — small  brass 
boxes  or  globes,  so  constructed  as  to  collect  to  the  ear 
tones  of  a  single  pitch — it  has  been  found  that  each  form  of 
vibration  represented  in  a  note  produces  a  separate  pitch 
of  its  own.  When,  therefore,  a  tone  is  sounded  on  a 
violin,  we  hear  in  it  not  only  the  pitch  caused  by  the 
vibrations  of  the  whole  length  of  the  string,  but  also  in 
connection  with  it  a  number  of  other  partial  tones,  as  all 
the  constituents  of  any  one  note  are  called,  each  of  which 
has  its  own  pitch,  produced  by  vibrations  of  one  half, 
one  third,  one  fourth,  etc.,  of  the  length  of  the  string. 

The  difference  in  the  number,  the  combination,  and  the 
relative  loudness  of  these  partial  tones  in  a  musical  sound 
is  what  determines  its  quality  or  timbre.  In  instruments 
like  kettle-drums,  cymbals,  or  bells,  one  side  is  almost 
invariably  thicker  than  the  other.  For  this  reason,  the 
main  vibrations  are  not  uniforn,  and,  of  course,  the  partial 
tones  cannot  be  so.  Such  instruments,  accordingly,  are 
less  musical  than  noisy,  and  are  used  on  only  exceptional 
occasions.  But  in  ordinary  musical  sounds  the  partial 
tones,  if  present  at  all — they  differ  as  produced  by  differ- 
ent instruments — are  indicated  in  the  notation  below. 
Notice  that  the  first  partial  tone  is  the  same  as  the  prime 
tone  ;  also  that  the  second,  fourth,  and  eighth  partials  are 
the  same  as  the  prime  tone  with  exception  of  being  in 
higher  octaves. 

The  notes  on  page  199  (  m  \*  f  £  C  ),  in  the  degree  in 
which  they  are  long,  indicate  tones  which  the  reader  needs 
most  to  notice:  and  the  marks  after  the  letters  indicate 


MUSICAL   SCALES. 


I99 


the  relative  distance  of  a  tone  from  the  octave  of  the 
tone  which  is  the  standard  of  pitch.  C,  F',  or  G',  for 
instance,  are  one  octave  below  C,  F,  or  G,  and  these  are 
one  octave  below  c,  f,  or  g,  and  two  octaves  below  c', 
f,  or  g\ 


Partial  tones 
of  the  pitch 
ofC 


Of  F,  of  which  C  is 
the  third  and  near- 
est partial 


Of  G,  which  itself  is 
the  third  and  nearest 
partial  of  C 


Of  Afe,  of  which  C 
is  the  fifth  partial. 


Of  E,  which  itself  is  the 
fifth  partial  of  C. 


Now,  glancing  at  the  above,  suppose  that  we  were  to 
sound  the  note  C,  and  then  to  sound  after  it  notes  whose 
partial  tones  connected  them  most  closely  with  C.  What 
should  we  do?  We  should  sound  F, — should  we  not  ? — 
of  which  C  is  the  third  partial,  and  G,  which  itself  is  the 
third  partial  of  C?  This,  inasmuch  as  every  C,  F,  or  G 
of  whatever  octave  has  virtually  the  same  sound,  would 
give  us  the  following : 


s 


g 


200  RHYTHM  AND  HARMON  Y  IN  POE TR  Y  AND  MUSIC. 

But  these  are  the  very  tones  accredited  to  the  "  lyre  of 
Orpheus,"  which  represented  the  earliest  of  the  Greek 
scales. 

Now  let  us  add  to  these  notes  those  whose  partial  tones 
are  the  next  nearly  connected  with  C,  F,  or  G.  They  are 
D  the  third  partial  of  G,  E  the  fifth  partial  of  C,  A  the 
fifth  of  F,  and  B  the  fifth  of  G.     This  gives  us 

C— D— E— F— G— A— B— C, 

which  is  our  own  major  scale,  the  main  one  that  we  use 
to-day;  and  is  similar  to  that  used  by  the  Greeks  after 
theirs  had  been  expanded  to  seven  notes. 

If  now  we  include  in  the  scale  the  lower  partial  tones 
of  Ab,  of  which  C  is  the  fifth  partial,  and  of  E,  which  is  the 
fifth  partial  of  C,  and  add  Bb,  which  is  the  seventh  partial  of 
C,  as  well  as  the  ninth  of  Ah,  we  get  the  following  result : 
C-D-Eb  (the  same  in  pitch  as  D*  )-E-F-G-Ab  (the  same 
in  pitch  as  Gtf  )-A-Bb-B-C. 

There  might  be  a  scale  of  this  length,  as  there  is  no 
reason  in  nature  why  its  notes  should  be  confined  to 
seven.  But  as  Eh,  Ah,  and  Bb  are  very  near  to  E,  A,  and 
B,  the  latter  are  omitted  wherever  the  former  are  used. 
By  substituting  these  flattened  notes  for  the  natural  ones, 
we  get  our  minor  scale  in  its  two  forms ;  first  the 
ascending, 

CDEfeFGABC, 

and  second,  the  descending, 

C     Bb    Ah     G     F     Eh     D     C. 

All  these  scales  are  derived,  as  will  be  perceived,  accord- 
ing to  the  artistic  principle  of  putting  together  like  partial 
tone-effects  of  unlike  complex  tone-wholes,  precisely  as 
alliteration,  assonance,  or  rhyme,  as  used  in  poetry,  is  a 


MUSICAL   SCALES.  201 

result  of  putting  together  like  partial  letter-effects  of 
unlike  complex  syllable-wholes.  When  we  hear  C  sounded, 
we  hear  with  it  G  as  its  third  partial,  and  therefore,  recog- 
nize in  a  following  G,  something  that  we  have  heard 
before.  We  are  prepared  therefore  to  pass  from  the  C  to 
G.  In  the  same  way  we  can  pass  from  C  to  F,  for  in  the 
F  we  continue  to  hear  the  C  which  is  the  third  partial  of 
F ;  and  so  on  through  the  scale. 

Of  course  these  facts  with  reference  to  the  partial  tones 
were  not  known  by  the  Greeks  to  whom  we  must  trace 
the  origin  of  our  scale  ;  but  their  ignorance  renders  it  all 
the  more  significant  that  their  ears  should  have  been 
guided  to  results  for  which  modern  science  alone  is  able 
to  give  a  satisfactory  reason.  The  facts  with  reference  to 
the  subject  which  they  had  ascertained  are  supposed  to 
be  as  follows.  They  had  found  that  the  voice  in  recitation 
is  in  the  habit  of  rising,  to  give  the  interrogative  indecis- 
ive inflection,  to  the  fifth  note  above  the  main  pitch,  and 
of  falling,  to  give  the  affirmative  decisive  inflection,  to 
the  fifth  note  below  this  pitch.  (See  Helmholtz's  "  Sensa- 
tions of  Tone,"  Part  III.,  Ch.  XIII.).  This  led  them  with 
C  to  use  G,  the  fifth  above  it,  and  F,  the  fifth  below  it. 

In  connection  with  these  facts  they  had  learned  that  a 
string  of  a  given  length,  represented  by  the  unit  I,  would 
produce  a  sound,  say  C,  forming  a  perfect  consonance  with 
sounds  produced  by  the  same  kind  of  a  string  shortened 
either  to  one  half  of  its  length,  as  when  sounding,  above 
the  first  C,  the  C  represented  by  £;  or  to  two  thirds  of  its 
length,  as  when  sounding,  above  the  first  C,  the  G  repre- 
sented by  f ;  or  to  three  fourths  of  its  length,  as  when 
sounding,  above  the  first  C,  the  F  represented  by  f.  In 
other  words  they  had  learned  that  sounds  produced  by 
strings  related  to  one  another  as  I  to  2,  2  to  3,  or  3  to  4, 


202   RHYTHM  AND  HARMONY  IN  POETR  Y  AND  MUSIC. 

would  form  consonances.     Accordingly,  for  this  reason,  as 

well  as  for  the  purpose  of  having  an  instrument  conformed 

to  the  requirements  of  recitation,  they  seem  to  have  in- 

vented  or  adopted  the  "  lyre  of  Orpheus,"  containing  these 

strings 

c  F  G  C 

i  I  !  1 

Modern  musicians,  however,  do  not  determine  the  nu- 
merical ratios  of  sounds  of  different  pitch  by  the  relative 
lengths  of  strings,  but  of  the  vibrations  caused  by  such 
strings.  This  is  an  improvement ;  because,  if  strings  be 
not  exactly  alike,  consonances  will  not  be  produced  by 
shortening  their  lengths  by  £,  -J-,  J,  etc.  Besides  this,  many 
sounds  are  not  produced  by  strings  at  all.  That  which 
really  determines  pitch  is  the  time  of  the  vibrations, 
however  caused.  Accordingly  to-day,  if  C  be  represented 
by  I,  the  octave  above  is  represented  by  2,  because  it  is 
produced  by  two  vibrations  made  in  the  same  time  as  the 
lower  one.  While  this  lower  one  is  made,  the  sound  pro- 
ducing G  makes  i^-  vibrations,  and  the  sound  producing 
F  makes  i-J-  vibrations. 

In  other  words     CFG    and    C     are  now  represented 
by  !        I       1      "     2    which,  it  will  be  no- 

ticed,  express)     t       f       f      „     ^  obtained  by  a  different 

the  same  as     ) 

method  of  computing  the  numerical  ratio. 

Instead  of  going  on  to  develop  their  scale  in  accordance 
with  the  ideas  suggested  by  these  simple  ratios,  the  older 
musicians  seem  to  have  been  governed  by  what  they  con- 
sidered to  be  the  requirements  of  recitation.  They  en- 
larged their  scale  by  continuing  to  introduce  into  it  fifths 
others  than  those  represented  in  G  and  F,  the  reasons  for 
first  using  which  were  given  on  page  20 1.    The  fifth  above 


MUSICAL  SCALES.  203 

G,  which,  considering  C  to  be  I,  is  represented  by  (}),  is 
D,  which,  considering  G  to  be  (f),  is  represented  by  f 
of  f  =  f .  This,  if  lowered  an  octave,  gives  the  musical 
ratio  f .  The  fifth  below  F  (f)  is  Bb  (£) ;  f  of  $  =  ^,  giving 
us  the  musical  ratio  -^-.  Adding  these  to  our  former  scale 
we  get 

C  D  F  G  Bb  C 

1  I         I         1  ¥         2 

Arranged  differently,  this  forms  the  Chinese  scale,  also 
the  ancient  Scotch  scale,  in  which  numbers  of  the  popular 
songs  of  Scotland  and  Ireland  were  composed. 

The  Greeks  did  not  use  the  note  Bb.  Terpander  intro- 
duced A,  the  fifth  of  D,  and  E,  the  fifth  of  A.  Finally, 
Pythagoras  added  B  as  the  fifth  of  E,  thus  making  a  scale 
of  seven  notes,  which  number  continues  to  this  day.  The 
ratios  of  the  notes  used  by  him  when  brought  into  the 
same  octave  are 


c 

D 

E 

F 

G 

A 

B 

C 

I 

t 

fi 

1 

1 

« 

ITS 

2 

Besides  this,  the  Greeks  had  other  scales  formed  by  the 
simple  process  of  beginning  them  with  other  notes,  thus 

EFGABCDE 
ABCDEFGA 

The  notes  themselves,  however,  represented  the  same 
sounds  as  those  of  the  scale  beginning  with  C.  Not 
many  of  these  scales  are  known  to  have  been  used,  and 
these  very  likely  were  not  used  extensively. 

The  Greek  scale  was  defective,  in  that  its  members, 
with  the  exception  of  F  and  G  were  not  derived  from 
their  connection  with  C,  the  fundamental  note  ;  and  for 


204  RHYTHM  AND  HARMON  Y  IN  FOE  TR  Y  AND  MUSIC. 

this  reason,  it  could  scarcely  have  met  the  requirements  of 
modern  harmony.  In  fact,  it  was  felt  to  be  unsatisfac- 
tory by  the  Greeks  themselves.  They  tried  to  correct  its 
deficiencies;  but  not  until  the  sixteenth  century  were  any 
important  changes  made  in  it.  Then,  in  order  to  pro- 
vide for  the  necessities  of  harmony,  the  existing  scales 
began  gradually  to  be  transformed  into  our  two  modern 
ones,  the  major  and  the  minor.  In  these,  the  object  in 
view  has  been  to  make  the  ratios  of  the  notes  to  the 
fundamental  note  and  to  one  another  as  simple  as  possible. 
For  this  purpose  the  following  figures  were  first  chosen  : 

i*  i£  if  ii  2 

I  I  I  f  2 

G  F  A  E  C 

To  these  were  added  D,  the  fifth  of  G,  shown  on  page 
203,  to  be  properly  represented  by  -| ;  and  B,  the  third 
(|)  of  G  (I).,  i.  e.  \  of  f  properly  represented  by  J55-.  Ac- 
cording to  these  methods  of  calculating  the  ratios, 
methods  which  it  is  not  necessary  to  describe  further,  the 
following  results  have  been  obtained  : 

CDEFGA  B  C 

For  the  major  scale  i  f  f  f  f  \  -1/  2 

For  its  intervals  f  -^         jf  f  ^  f  if 

For  the  Pythagorean  scale  i  f  fi  f  t  !i         Iff  2 

For  its  intervals  I  t         Iff        I  I  t  iff 

For  the  first  form  of  the 

minor  scale  i  f  f  f  f  f  -^6-  2 

For  its  intervals  f  \%         *$■  f  ^  f  if 

For  the  second  form  of 

the  minor  scale  Ifffff  t  2 

For  its  intervals  |  if         i^  |  ie  |  10 

The  keys  used  on  the  piano  and  the  organ  are  as  follows : 


MUSICAL   SCALES.  2C>5 

1234  5  6  7  8  9  10        11  12  13 

white  black  white  black  white   white  black   white   black  white  black  white  white 
r    I   Cff  I    ~    I  D*  I     v    I    F     I    Fit   I  I    G*  I     A     I  At  I      ^ 

C    I  Bb\    D    I   Eb  I     E    I    F     I    Gfe   I    G    I    Ah  J    A    I  Bh  \      B 

It  is  possible  to  begin  the  scale,  i.  e.y  to  sound  the  do  of 
the  do  re  mi  fa  sol  la  si  do  on  any  one  of  these  keys, 
which  in  that  case  is  termed  the  keynote,  and,  by  using 
half  intervals  at  the  right  places — in  other  words  between 
the  3d  and  4th  and  between  the  7th  and  8th  notes — to 
produce  a  scale  containing  approximately  the  same  order 
of  sounds.  Instead  of  a  scale  we  may  start  a  melody  on 
any  one  of  these  different  keys ;  and  the  ear  will  recognize 
that,  though  its  general  pitch  is  higher  or  lower,  neverthe- 
less its  notes  continue  to  sustain,  each  to  each,  relations 
that  keep  the  melody  very  nearly  the  same.  But  they  do  not 
keep  it  exactly  the  same.     Observe  the  numbers  for  inter- 

do       re         mi        fa        sol         la         si         do 

vals  in  the  key  of  C :  c  9  D  10  E  ie  F  9  G  10  A  f  B  ie  c 
and  in  the  key  of  G :  g  -1/  A  f  B  ££  C  |  D  -\°  E  f  F  |f  G 
Besides  this  it  must  be  evident  that  if  all  sharps  are  at 
equal  distances  above  their  naturals  and  all  flats  at  equal 
distances  below  them,  there  must  be  something  out  of  the 
way  either  about  the  note  \%$\  representing  half  of  the 
interval  J-  between  C  and  D  ;  or  else  about  the  note  |  e*  | 
representing  half  of  the  interval  ±f  between  D  and  E. 
Such  facts  prove  that,  in  order  to  represent  each  scale 
with  absolute  accuracy,  there  should  be  separate  notes  or 
keys  for  all  possible  sharps  and  flats,  as  well  as  for  the 
notes  that  are  termed  natural.  As  such  arrangements 
would  render  a  musical  instrument  exceedingly  compli- 
cated, and  the  execution  of  music  on  it  correspondingly 
difficult,  what  is  called  the  temperate  scale  came  into  use 
during  the  last  century,  mainly  through  the  efforts  of 
Sebastian  Bach,     This  scale  represents  ratios  approximat- 


206   RHYTHM  AND  HARMONY  IN  POETR  Y  AND  MUSIC. 

ing  those  of  the  mathematical,  but  not  the  same  ;  and  its 
value  consists  in  the  large  use  that  it  enables  us  to  make 
of  pianos  and  organs,  in  which  the  same  key  can  always 
be  struck  for  the  sharp  of  one  note  and  for  the  flat  of  the 
note  above  it.  The  difference  between  the  temperate  and 
the  mathematical  scales  may  be  illustrated  thus:  If  we 
suppose  the  fundamental  note  C  to  make  240  vibrations 
in  a  second  of  time,  the  different  notes  of  the  following 
scales  will  make  these  vibrations  : 


270  300  320  360  400  450  480 

270  288  320  360  384  432  480 
269!  302f  320I  359f  403|  453   480 


Accordingly,  we  see  that  the  scale  used  to-day  is  not  by 
any  means  as  different  as  might  be  expected  from  that  of 
Pythagoras. 


The    mathematical 

major  scale 

240 

The    mathematical 

minor 

240 

The  temperate 

240 

The  Pythagorean 

240 

CHAPTER    XV. 

MUSICAL  HARMONY  AS  DEVELOPED  BY  THE  ART-METHOD 

OF  GROUPING  LIKE  PARTIAL  EFFECTS  OF  UNLIKE 

COMPLEX  WHOLES. 

Historical  Developments  from  Counteraction,  etc.,  as  Involved  in  Polyphonic 
Music  — Connection  between  the  Concords  and  the  Lowest  or  Chief  Par- 
tial Tones  of  a  Compound  Note — Harmony  Emphasizes  the  Fact  that 
Like  Partial  Effects  are  Put  with  Like— Visible  Proof  of  this— All  the 
Notes  of  a  Scale  Harmonized  by  Using  Chords  Based  on  the  Tonic, 
Dominant,  and  Subdominant — Different  Possible  Arrangements  of  the 
Same  Chord — The  Cadence  and  the  Dissonance  of  the  Seventh — The 
Principal  Key — Application  of  Subordination,  Balance,  Central-Point, 
Parallelism,  Symmetry,  Alternation,  Massing,  Complication,  Conti- 
nuity.etc. — And  Other  of  theMethods  of  Art-Composition — Interchange 
as  an  Element  of  Modulation — And  Gradation,  Abruptness,  Transition, 
and  Progress — Interchange  and  Gradation  in  Sounding  the  Same  Note 
in  Successive  Chords — In  Passing  from  One  Key  to  Another,  by  Mak- 
ing the  Tonic  or  Subdominant  of  One  Key  the  Dominant  of  Another 
— By  Passing  from  Major  to  Minor,  or  Vice  Versa — Further  Exempli- 
fied and  Explained — Relations  of  Different  Chords  to  One  Another — 
Abruptness  in  Transitions — The  Chords  Considered  Separately — The 
Major  Triad— The  Chord  of  the  Seventh— The  Minor  Triad— The 
Ratios  of  the  Notes  of  these  Chords  when  in  the  Same  Octaves — Sum- 
mary of  the  Ratios  of  Notes  Causing  Musical  Concords. 

A7[  fE  come  now  to  harmony  proper.  This  was  devel- 
oped, as  we  have  noticed,  from  melody  ;  but  not 
until  the  world  had  been  accustomed  to  melody  for 
many  centuries.  Historically,  the  laws  of  harmony  were 
discovered  as  a  result  of  experiments  made  in  composing 
polyphonic  music  ;    in  other  words,  as  a  result  of  that 

207 


208   RHYTHM  AND  HARMONY  IN  POETRY  AND  MUSIC. 


making  of  order  out  of  confusion  which,  on  page  3,  is 
shown  to  be  counteraction.  In  trying  to  put  together 
two,  three,  or  four  melodies  men  found  that  certain  notes 
when  combined  sounded  agreeably  and  others  disagree- 
ably. Of  course  they  soon  learned  to  use  the  former 
combinations,  and  to  avoid  the  latter.  For  many  years, 
as  exemplified  in  the  opening  strain  of  Palestrina's 
"Stabat  Mater"  (see  page  191)  there  were  no  acknowl- 
edged laws  of  harmony.  Now,  however,  it  is  different. 
As  a  rule,  for  instance,  the  notes  of  the  ordinary  major 
scale  are  harmonized  thus  : 


PP 


gzE_ 


re 


FS* 


fa 


speM 


^^ 


* 


GS 


4 


do 


CGCFCFGC 

Let  us  take  these  concords  now  and  compare  them 
with  the  scheme  of  the  upper  partial  tones  of  C,  F,  and  G, 
from  which,  as  we  found  on  pages  199  and  200,  the  major 
scale  of  C  is  derived.  We  at  once  notice  that  C,  F,  and  G 
are  the  three  bass  notes  used  in  harmonizing  this  scale  ; 
also  that  the  nearest  and  most  universally  present  partial 
tones  of  C,  F,  and  G  are  those  used  in  the  successive 
chords.  Let  us  try  to  arrange  the  scheme  of  the  partial 
tones  and  the  chords  harmonizing  the  different  notes  of 
the  scale  so  as  to  show  this  fact  in  the  clearest  way. 

PARTIAL  TONES. 


i**=±£ 

if 

g'       a'  b' 

(tt) 3 g-^ 

)•)     aC     -U- 

fU; : 

-> a  f  g  i — 

3      C      Im. 

-2—  F  — js 

k  31 

s   0  )s 

S  _l-<y C* 

1      F,    p 

Li_g;-Js> . 1 

MUSICAL  HARMONY. 


209 


HARMONIC  CHORDS. 
3  4.  5 


In  the  first  of  the  above  chords,  G  is  an  octave  below 
where  it  belongs  as  the  third  partial,  and  E  is  two  octaves 
below  where  it  belongs  as  the  fifth ;  in  the  second,  third, 
and  fourth  chords  E  is  one  octave  below  where  it  be- 
longs as  the  fifth  partial.  In  the  seventh  chord  B  is  one 
octave  below  where  it  belongs  as  the  fifth  partial ;  and  in 
the  eighth  chord  F  is  one  octave  below  where  it  belongs 
as  the  seventh  partial. 

A  comparison  of  the  notes  on  these  two  staves  will 
show  that  harmony  does  little  more  than  to  repeat  in 
such  a  way  as  to  reinforce,  the  partial  tones  already  in 
the  sounds  that  it  accompanies.  In  other  words,  it  em- 
phasizes the  fact  that  in  the  successive  notes  of  the  scale 
like  or  allied  partial  effects  are  put  together.  "  When, 
for  example,"  says  Helmholtz,  "  I  ascend  from  C  to  its 
sixth  A,  I  recognize  their  mutual  relationship  in  an  un- 
accompanied melody,  by  the  fact  that  e'  the  fifth  partial 
of  C,  which  is  already  very  weak,  is  identical  with  the 
third  of  A.  But  if  I  accompany  the  A  with  the  chord 
F-a-c,  I  hear  the  former  c  of  the  chord  continue  to  sound 
powerfully ;  and  know  by  immediate  sensation  that  A  and 
C  are  consonant,  and  both  of  them  constituents  of  the 
compound  tone  F"  ("Sensations  of  Tone,"  III.,  15). 

A  visible  proof  of  the  fact  that  in  the  scale  like  partial 
effects  of  unlike  complex  wholes  are  put  together,  may  be 
afforded  by  a  glance  at  the  chords  on  page  208  harmoniz- 


2IO  RHYTHM  AND  HARMONY  IN  POETRY  AND  MUSIC. 


ing  in  succession  do  re  mi  fa  sol  la  si  and  do.     It  will  be 
noticed  that  the  chords  accompanying  do  re  mi  and  si 

all  contain  f*    I      ,  that  those  accompanying  do  mi  fa  sol 


and  la  contain  \m      i    ,  and  that  those  accompanying  fa 


la  and  si  contain 


i 


As  shown  by  these  chords,  moreover,  all  the  notes  of 
the  scale,  and  therefore  any  melody  composed  entirely  in 
notes  of  this  scale,  can  be  harmonized  throughout  by 
using  the  chords  based  upon  the  notes  of  the  octave 
below  its  do  (C),  of  the  octave  below  its  sol(G),  and  of  the 
octave  below  its  fa  (F).  The  do,  which  in  this  case  is  C, 
is  termed  the  keynote  or  the  tonic.  The  sol,  which  is  G, 
is  termed  the  dominant.  This  is  so  because  it  is  the  bass 
of  the  chord  harmonizing  re  and  si,  which  notes,  when  the 
tones  of  the  scale  are  sounded  in  order  downward  or  up- 
ward, precede  do  and  prepare  the  ear  to  hear  it.  The  fa, 
which  is  F,  is  termed  the  subdominant,  because  it  stands 
in  the  scale  just  below  the  dominant  sol. 

Except  at  the  end  of  a  musical  cadence  any  note  in  a 
chord  may  be  used  in  its  bass  or  treble  as  its  lowest  or 
highest  note.  All  these,  for  example  are  different  arrange- 
ments of  the  same  chord. 


In  order  to  emphasize  a  cadence,  however,  and,  of 
course,  at  the  end  of  a  composition,  the  ear  seems  to 
desire   to  hear    notes    that    chord    in    succession   with 


MUSICAL  HARMONY, 


211 


the  subdominant,  dominant,  and  tonic.  Of  these,  the  sub- 
dominant  can  be  omitted,  but  not,  without  unsatisfactory 
effects,  the  other  two.  The  chord  of  the  dominant  seems  to 
be  necessary  because  it  harmonizes  with  re  and  si,  and, 
when  the  scale  is  sounded  downward  or  upward  accord- 
ing to  the  order  of  its  notes,  the  ear  expects  to  hear  one 
of  these  two  before  the  do.  With  the  chord  of  the  dom- 
inant in  such  cases  it  has  become  customary  to  bring  in 
also  the  seventh  partial  tone.  This  is  slightly  dissonant, 
suggesting  an  effect  of  unrest  which  in  musical  language 
indicates  that  the  chord  is  used  for  the  purpose  of  prepar- 
ing the  ear  for  another.  As  it  has  become  a  rule  in  music — 
not,  however,  without  exceptions — to  sound  the  chord  of 
the  tonic  after  this  chord  of  the  seventh,  the  ear  has  no 
difficulty  in  recognizing  the  tonic  when  it  is  reached. 
With  reference  to  this  whole  subject,  see  "  Music  as  a 
Representative  Art,"  Chapter  V.  Here  are  the  sub- 
dominant,  dominant,  and  tonic  of  the  key  of  C  : 

Subd.    Dora.    Tonic.        Tonic.   Dom.  Tonic 


|ft 


^=® 


si        do 


i  I     f 


re 


do 


¥ 


P 


In  composing  modern  music,  a  certain  key  is  chosen  as 
the  principal  one,  to  the  keynote  or  tonic  of  which  all  the 
sounds  used,  however  intricately  developed,  constantly 
return.  This  fact  is  an  important  element  in  producing 
an  effect  of  unity  in  the  organic  form,  especially  in  an 
extended  composition. 

In  the  constant  tendency  to  return  to  the  keynote  and 
its  harmony,  we  find  a  literal  exemplification  of  the 
method  of  principality,  involving,  as  is  evident  without 
explanation,  subordination,  as  well  also  as  balance  between 


212  RHYTHM  AND  HARMONY  IN  POETRY  AND  MUSIC. 

this  tendency  and  its  opposite.  These  effects  are  brought 
about,  moreover,  by  what  are  termed,  in  the  chart  on 
page  3,  central-point  and  setting,  the  first  constantly  draw- 
ing the  lines  of  the  movement  back  to  their  starting- 
place,  the  second  assigning  limits  to  the  impulse  to 
wander  from  it.  If  then  the  methods  of  movement,  in 
returning  to  the  key  and  in  departing  from  it,  be  at  all 
representative  of  moods,  as  they  should  be,  we  may  find 
in  the  principal  and  subordinate  themes  fulfilments  of 
the  methods  of  congruity,  incongruity,  and  comprehensive- 
ness. The  similarity  of  the  movements,  too,  both  rhyth- 
mic and  harmonic,  as  the  chords  pass  from  phrase  to 
phrase  and  key  to  key,  necessarily  involves  more  or  less 
of  symmetry,  and  of  that  development  of  complement  and 
balance,  which  we  call  parallelism.  Of  repetition  and 
alternation  in  thesis  and  anti-thesis,  of  massing,  as  ex- 
emplified in  the  grouping  of  soft  or  forcible  passages, 
especially  in  the  reiterated  strains  of  the  cadence ;  of 
interspersion  and  complication  in  the  fugue,  and  other 
movements  resembling  it,  and  of  continuity  in  the  logical 
unfolding  of  the  theme  or  themes,  no  mention  need  be 
made  here  beyond  what  has  been  already  pointed  out  in 
"The  Genesis  of  Art-Form." 

Dissonance,  interchange,  gradation,  abruptness,  transi- 
tion, and  progress,  however,  as  developments  of  con- 
sonance, which  of  all  the  methods  is  the  one  most  closely 
connected  with  the  harmony  of  sounds,  need  to  be 
considered  at  more  length. 

To  begin  with,  it  is  noteworthy  that  the  very  first  prin- 
ciple of  modulation,  by  which  is  meant  the  method  of 
passing  from  chord  to  chord,  necessitates  an  application 
of  what  has  been  termed  interchange.  This,  as  pointed 
out  in  Chapter  XV.  of  "  The  Genesis  of  Art-Form,"  and 
as  will  be  illustrated  presently,  is  a  musical  method  in 


MUSICAL  HARMONY.  21 3 

accordance  with  which,  in  passing  from  one  chord  to 
another,  unity  of  effect  is  maintained  by  sounding  in 
both  chords  one  note  that  is  the  same.  To  such  an  ex- 
tent is  the  application  of  this  method  supposed  to  be 
necessary  that,  often,  when,  through  the  second  chord, 
the  music  enters  a  different  key,  a  note  legitimate  only 
to  this  second  chord  and  key  is  arbitrarily  introduced  into 
the  first  chord.  (See  "  Genesis  of  Art-Form,"  Chapter 
XV.)  This  method  and  a  special  use  of  it  are  thus  men- 
tioned by  Gardiner  in  Chapter  XXXIX.  of  his  "  Music  of 
Nature."  "  When  we  modulate  upon  an  organ  or  piano- 
forte, in  passing  from  one  chord  to  another,  it  may  be  laid 
down  as  a  general  rule  that  one  of  the  ringers  should 
remain  upon  that  key  which  is  to  form  a  part  of  the 
succeeding  chord.  This  gives  a  smoothness  to  the 
transitions  readily  perceived  by  the  ear.  For  bold  and 
sudden  effects,  these  connecting  links  of  harmony  are 
dispensed  with." 

It  is  hardly  necessary  to  point  out  that  the  second 
sentence  of  this  passage  enjoins  the  use  not  only  of 
interchange,  but  also  of  gradation,  and  that  the  last  sen- 
tence describes  the  exceptional  use  of  the  method  of 
abruptness.  These  methods,  taken  together  too,  evi- 
dently determine  the  character  of  each  transition,  and  all 
of  them  combined  that  of  the  progress.  (See  page  3.) 

It  is,  of  course,  the  desire  to  emphasize  the  fact  of  the 
likeness  between  consecutive  chords  that  underlies  the 
use  of  interchange  and  gradation.  The  former  of  these,  as 
indicated  on  page  3,  is  a  development  of  balance ;  and  it 
accounts,  in  part  at  least,  for  that  law  of  musicians  in  ac- 
cordance with  which,  in  passing  from  chord  to  chord, 
consecutive  octaves  and  consecutive  fifths  should  be 
avoided.  Where  they  are  not  avoided,  it  is  frequently 
the  case  that  there  is  no  interchange,  because  there  is  no 


214  RHYTHM  AND  HARMONY  IN  POETRY  AND  MUSIC. 

note  in  one  chord  that  is  sounded  in  a  following  one. 
Here  is  an  arrangement  of  harmony  bringing  in  consecu- 
tive octaves  for  the  chords  harmonizing  with/#  and  sol, 
and  with  si  and  do ;  and  consecutive  fifths  for  those  har- 
monizing with  do  and  re.  Upon  comparing  this  arrange- 
ment with  the  chords  made  to  harmonize  with  the  same 
notes  on  page  208,  the  superior  unity  of  effect  through 
the  interchange  in  the  former  arrangement  will,  at  once, 
be  apparent. 


Octaves. 


Fifths. 


The  importance  of  interchange  and  gradation  as  ele- 
ments of  harmony  is  still  more  evident  when  considered 
in  connection  with  the  methods  of  passing  from  one  key 
to  another.  Mention  has  been  made  already  of  the  fact 
that  in  entering  a  new  key  the  ear,  to  be  assured  that  the 
transition  has  been  made,  needs  to  hear  in  succession  the 
chords  of  the  dominant  and  of  the  tonic.  It  follows  from 
this  that,  as  the  tonic  of  any  key  in  which  the  music  hap- 
pens to  be  moving  may  always  be  the  dominant  of  some 
other  key,  it  is  possible  to  pass  at  once  from  the  one  into 
the  other.  The  following  is  a  common  way  of  making 
the  circuit  of  all  the  major  keys,  and  is  accomplished 
by  using  each  tonic  as  a  dominant.  Notice  how  the 
methods  of  interchange  and  gradation  are  fulfilled 
throughout.  Every  chord,  including  of  course  the  bass 
note,  contains  at  least  one  note  that  is  sounded  in  the 
chord  following. 


MUSICAL  HARMONY. 


215 


1   J   b  J 

1    1 

1  b  J    gj    ■ 

J     ! 

g»): 

C 

F 

Si 1 

Bb 

Eb 

Ab 

Db 

Gb 

— °* 

-  \>e? 

h»  ■    ■ 

1 — ks ' 

H3 3 — 1 

rj-h 

to — ,  J  — H 

E 

A 

D 

G 

C 

— r 

1                 ^ 

■   »  " "    — 

1 — es 1 

—{ 

Besides  this  it  is  possible  to  pass  from  one  key  to 
another  by  means  of  the  relations  that  exist  between  the 
major  and  minor  keys.  The  scale  of  C  major,  for  instance, 
is  related  to  C  minor,  because  both  have  the  same  sub- 
dominant,  dominant,  and  tonic.  But  in  making  these  tran- 
sitions again  we  have  the  same  evidence  of  interchange 
and  gradation. 


C  Major. 


C  Minor. 


^m 


m 


Subd.     Dom.    Tonic.      Subd.     Dom.    Tonic. 

The  former  of  these  keys  is  related  still  more  closely  to 
A  minor  than  to  C  minor,  because,  while  in  C  minor  E, 
A,  and  B  sometimes  are  flat,  in  A  minor  all  are  natural, 
— in  fact  all  the  notes,  except  at  times  G,  are  the  same  as 
those  used  in  C  major,  e.  g. 

A  Minor. 


2 1 6  RHYTHM  AND  HARMON  Y  IN  FOE  TRY  A  ND  MUSIC. 


A  Minor  again. 


C  Major. 


$ 


s 


m 


se 


g^-n— J 


Z£ 


Ud: 


f=F 


^ 


3 


r 


3 


In  the  same  way  as  the  key  of  A  minor  is  related  to  C 
major,  D  minor  is  related  to  F  major,  G  minor  to  Bfe  major, 
C  minor  to  Efc  major,  F  minor  to  A(?  major,  B  minor  to  D 
major,  E  minor  to  G  major,  Cj  minor  to  E  major,  Fj  minor 
to  A  major,  Bfe  minor  to  Dk  major,  and  Efe  minor  to  Gb 
major.  We  have  noticed  how  closely  related  the  key  of 
C  is  to  those  of  G,  its  dominant,  and  of  F,  its  subdominant. 
Observe  now  that  each  of  these  three, — the  key  of  C,  of 
G,  and  of  F, — has  a  related  minor  key,  C  that  of  A  minor, 
G  that  of  E  minor,  and  F  that  of  D  minor.  These  facts 
make  it  possible  to  pass  directly  from  the  key  of  C  into 
all  of  these  six  other  keys.  But  notice  how  in  strict  ful- 
filment of  the  requirements  of  interchange  and  gradation, 
each  chord,  when  these  transitions  are  made  according  to 


MUSICAL  HARMONY.  21  7 

rule,  contains,  at  least,  one  note  that  is  repeated  in  the 
chord  immediately  following  it. 

It  is  not  necessary  to  explain  here  in  what  ways  it  is 
possible  to  pass  from  C  major  into  other  keys  more 
remotely  related  to  it.  Enough  has  been  said  to  illustrate 
that  for  which  these  examples  have  been  used,  namely, 
to  show  the  influence  of  interchange  and  gradation  upon 
the  accepted  methods  of  making  transitions  from  one  key 
to  another.  An  experienced  musician,  of  course,  will  find 
various  and  often  original  ways  in  which  to  apply  these 
methods ;  and  occasionally  too  will  make  abrupt  transitions 
with  no  apparent  interchange.  But  in  these  cases  his 
methods  form  exceptions  to  the  rule ;  and  they  are  allow- 
able only  for  the  reasons  that  ellipses  are  allowable  in 
rhetoric — because  the  effects,  which  are  not  expressed, 
are  understood,  the  ear  being  so  accustomed  to  the  recog- 
nized order  of  the  succession  of  the  chords  that  the  drop- 
ping of  one  link  in  the  chain  does  not  interfere  with  a 
perception  of  the  unity  of  the  series.  If  abruptness  were 
carried  so  far  that  the  ear  could  not  perceive  the  possibil- 
ity, notwithstanding  it,  of  connecting  the  sounds  in  some 
melodic  or  harmonic  way  so  as  to  fulfil  the  principle  of 
putting  together  like  partial  effects  of  unlike  complex 
wholes,  no  aesthetic  impression  of  artistic  unity  could  be 
conveyed  by  the  method  of  the  transition. 

So  far  an  endeavor  has  been  made  to  explain  the  rela- 
tions of  consecutive  chords.  Let  us  now  examine  the 
chords  separately,  and  notice  the  different  degrees  of 
pitch  of  the  tones  of  which  they  are  composed.  We  have 
found  on  page  209  that  these  tones  are  the  same  as  the  lower 
and,  by  consequence,  more  prominent  partial  tones  com- 
poundedwiththeprimetoneof  their  fundamental  bass  note. 
By  bringing  the  lower  partial  notes  into  a  single  octave, 
we  get  the  ordinary  major  chord  or  triad,  as  it  is  called,  e.g.: 


2 1 8    RHYTHM  AND  HARMON  Y  IN  ROE  TR  Y  AND  MUSIC. 


CFG 

To  this  triad  a  fourth  note  is  sometimes  added.  Inas- 
much as  the  second,  fourth,  and  eighth  partials  respect- 
ively are  exactly  one  octave  above  one  another,  and  also 
the  third  and  sixth,  it  will  be  recognized  that,  in  case 
another  partial  be  introduced  into  the  same  octave  with  the 
second,  third,  and  fifth,  which  constitute  the  major  triad, 
it  must  be  the  seventh  partial.  This  gives  the  chord  of 
the  seventh  as  follows  : 


The  minor  triad  differs  from  the  major  in  the  flattening 
of  the  note  corresponding  to  the  fifth  partial,  or,  as  the 
notes  are  usually  arranged  in  the  chord,  of  that  note  which 
is  the  first  above  the  bass.  It  is  developed  from  the  require- 
ments of  the  minor  scale  (see  page  200),  which  itself  is 
developed  from  relations  to  the  fundamental  note  of  the 
bass  slightly  more  remote  than  are  the  relations  of  the 
notes  of  the  major  scale.  Notice  on  page  199  the  el?  as 
the  seventh  partial  of  F,  of  which  C  is  the  third  partial, 
and  also  the  Eb  as  the  third  partial  of  Ah,  of  which  C  is 
the  third  partial.     Here  is  the  minor  triad: 


MUSICAL  HARMONY. 


219 


Of  course,  it  is  understood  that  whenever,  as  is  usual 
in  forming  chords,  in  order  to  bring  all  their  notes  into  a 
single  octave,  a  partial  note  is  sounded  an  octave  below 
where,  as  a  partial,  it  belongs,  the  number  of  vibrations 
causing  it  is  lessened  by  one  half.  This  accounts  for  the 
fact  that,  while  the  ratios  of  the  prime  tone  to  the  different 
partial  tones  are  as  1  :  2,  1  :  3,  I  :  4,  1 :  5,  1  : 6,  1  :  7,  1  :  8, 
etc.,  the  ratios  of  the  fundamental  bass  note  to  the  actual 
notes  used  in  the  common  chords  are  as  1  :  2,  2  :  3,  3  : 4, 
4:5,5:6,  etc.  Bearing  this  in  mind,  let  us  notice  the 
ratios  representing  the  relations  of  the  fundamental  bass 
note  of  the  chord  to  each  of  the  notes  that  in  different 
combinations  enter  into  it.  For  an  explanation  of  the  ways 
in  which  these  ratios  are  calculated  see  pages  201  to  204. 
Beginning,  for  convenience,  with  the  note  that  is  nearest 
the  bass,  here  are  these  relations  expressed  in  musical 
notation  both  in  the  bass  and  the  treble  clefs.  The  last 
measure  contains  also  the  relations  of  the  chord  of  the 
ninth,  a  partial  discord  very  seldom  used,  but  srill  not 
wholly  discarded. 


Min.  3d. 

Maj.  3d 

4th. 

■^ — 

5th. 

Min.  6th. 

Maj.  6th. 

7th. 

bo 

8th. 

9th. 
5 

B  5 

35= 

— £*. °      . 

"^Or 

r* 

-= — ^&— 
•&•  or 

fag       g 

-■     Ear 

as     bo 

•o-or 

-_     teac 

*9- 

JSL 

\ 

A  comparison  of  these  notes  with  what  is  said  of  the 
partial  tones  on  page  199,  as  also  with  what,  on  pages  201 
to  204,  is  said  of  the  methods  of  calculating  the  ratios  of 
the  notes  used  in  the  musical  scale,  will  enable  us  to 
recognize  that 


he    notes    repre-  J, 
sented  by 

C  and  Ek 

causing  tne  cnora 
called  the 

Minor  third 

C  and  E 

Major  third 

C  andF 

Fourth 

C  andG 

Fifth 

C  and  At? 

Minor  sixth 

CandG 

Major  sixth 

C  and  Bfcr 

Seventh 

CandC 

Eight  or  octave 

Cand  D 

Ninth 

2 20  RHYTHM  AND  HARMONY  IN  POETR  Y  AND  MUSIC. 

f  f  f according    to    the  f  f"?  fccord. 

.         ...    I  I  relative  length  of    Xi£t£e 

calculated  i  strings  causing  vi--,'  relative  t^me 

6:5  5:6 

5:4  4:5 

3:4  4:3 

2:3  3:2 

5:8  8:5 

3:5  5:3 

4:7  7:4 

1:2  2:1 

4:9     9:4 

It  is  evident,  therefore,  that  the  ratios  which  determine 
the  harmonies  of  music  are  either  these,  1  :  2,  2  :  3,  3  : 4, 
4:5  (8:5),  5  :  6,  4  :  7,  4  :  9 ;  or  else,  in  case  a  note  used  be 
in  a  lower  octave,  one  of  these  ratios  with  one  of  its  fac- 
tors divided  by  2 ;  or,  in  case  a  note  used  be  in  a  higher 
octave,  one  of  these  ratios  with  one  of  its  factors  multi- 
plied by  2.  This  would  give  such  additional  ratios  as 
1  :  3,  2  :  7,  2  :  9,  5  :  12,  8  :  7,  8  19,  10:  12,  16:7,  and  16:  9. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

PSYCHICAL  AND    PHYSICAL   REASONS   FOR   THE    EFFECTS 
OF   MUSICAL  FORM. 

Relations  of  the  Ratios  Underlying  Effects  in  Music  to  those  in  the  Other 
Arts — Why  is  it  Necessary  that  Notes  should  Chord  ? — Psychological 
Reason — Correspondence  of  it  to  the  Reason  Given  for  Effects  of 
Rhythm — Physiological  Confirmation  of  this  Reason — Beats  Resulting 
from  Discordant  Notes — New  Resulting  Notes  Formed  by  these  Beats 
— In  the  Major  Triad,  the  Resulting  Note  is  itself  the  Tonic — Beats 
Disagreeable,  because  Interruptions  of  the  Regularity  of  Periodic 
Vibrations — Cause  Noise,  not  Music — Blending  of  Psychological  and 
Physiological  Reasons  for  Effects  of  Musical  Form  :  Mind  and  Ear 
must  Recognize  that  Like  is  Put  with  Like. 

A  S  those  who  are  at  all  versed  in  aesthetics  will  under- 
stand, there  are  important  bearings  upon  the  other 
arts  of  the  use  of  the  simple  ratios,  mentioned  at  the 
end  of  Chapter  XV.  At  present,  however,  it  concerns 
us  only  to  find  out,  if  we  can,  why  it  is  that  chords  repre- 
senting them  are  the  only  ones  that  in  music  produce 
satisfactory  effects. 

We  have  already  found  one  reason  for  this  in  the  fact 
that  these  ratios  represent  the  only  tones  that  are  natu= 
rally  compounded  with,  and  therefore  that  can  chord  with, 
the  partial  tones  of  the  fundamental  bass  note.  But  what 
of  that  ?  Why  is  it  necessary  that  tones  should  chord  ? 
Why  does  the  mind  or  the  ear  demand  concordance  in 
the  sounds  used  in  music? 

In  answer  to  this  we  might  begin  by  inferring  a  psycho- 

221 


222   RHYTHM  AND  HARMONY  IN  POETR  Y  AND  MUSIC. 

logical  reason.  Sounds  result  from  vibrations  that  cause 
oscillations  in  the  air,  and  through  it  in  the  liquid  within 
the  inner  labyrinth  of  the  ear,  and  finally  in  the  fibrous 
terminations  of  the  auditory  nerve  that  float  in  this  liquid. 
There  is  a  sense  in  which  it  may  be  said  that  the  mind  is 
conscious  of  these  vibrations,  for  when  it  hears  a  certain 
number  of  them,  per  second,  it  invariably  hears  a  sound 
of  a  certain  pitch.  Now  if  the  vibrations  causing  two 
notes  start  together  every  second,  third,  fourth,  fifth,  or 
sixth  time  that  they  are  made,  as  they  do  in  the  notes 
composing  the  musical  concords,  it  is  easy  for  the  mind 
— on  the  supposition,  of  course,  that  in  some  subtle  way  it 
takes  cognizance  of  vibrations — to  perceive  a  unity  in  the 
result,  because  it  can  analyze  the  vibrations  and  perceive 
that  they  all  form  exact  subdivisions  of  certain  definite 
wholes.  But  if  the  vibrations  causing  the  tones  start 
together  at  only  long  and  irregular  intervals,  then  any 
analysis  or  classification  of  the  different  constituent  effects 
is  impossible.  Of  course  such  a  result  cannot  be  else  than 
confusing  and  unsatisfactory. 

This  explanation,  which  is  the  one  given  by  Euler,  has 
much  to  recommend  it.  We  know  how  it  is  in  the  case  of 
musical  rhythm.  Certain  measures,  to  all  of  which  an  equal 
time  is  given,  are  filled  with  notes  and  rests  that  represent 
exact  subdivisions  of  this  time — the  whole  of  it  or  a  half, 
a  quarter,  an  eighth,  or  more,  as  the  case  may  be.  When 
the  musician  composes  or  sings  in  rhythm,  he  beats  time, 
mentally  if  not  physically,  and  puts  into  each  measure 
just  the  number  of  notes  that  will  fill  it.  Why  are  we  not 
justified  in  surmising  that  the  principle  which  the  mind 
applies  consciously  when  it  counts  the  beats  that  deter- 
mine the  relations  of  a  note  to  rhythm,  it  applies  uncon- 
sciously  when   it    counts   the   beats   or   vibrations   that 


PSYCHICAL  AND  PHYSICAL  REASONS.  223 

determine  the  relations  of  tone  to  pitch  ?  The  fundamen- 
tal bass  note  of  the  chord  represents  a  certain  number  of 
vibrations  per  second.  These  constitute,  so  to  speak,  the 
chord-measure,  and  only  those  notes  can  be  used  in  the 
chord  which  represent  the  partial  tones  produced  by  exact 
subdivisions  of  this  measure.  In  fact,  there  is  ground 
enough  for  holding  the  theory  that  music  is  no  more  than 
an  artistic  adaptation  of  the  laws  of  rhythm,  of  a  part  of 
which,  as  related  to  duration,  the  mind  is  conscious;  but 
of  another  part  of  which,  as  related  to  pitch — i.  e.y  to  the 
rhythm  resulting  from  tone-vibrations, — it  is  unconscious. 

But  it  has  not  yet  been  shown  here  that  the  mind 
actually  does  count  or  compare  vibrations.  It  may  do 
this,  but  is  there  any  proof  of  it?  We  may  best  begin  an 
answer  to  this  question  by  going  back  of  the  action  of  the 
mind  to  that  of  the  ear  that  occasions  it,  and  ask,  is  there 
any  proof  of  a  physical  requirement  in  the  ear  underlying 
an  operation  analogous  to  comparison  as  made  in  the 
realm  of  consciousness? 

There  is  proof  of  such  a  requirement.  If  we  sound  at 
the  same  time  two  very  low  notes  of  an  organ  separated 
from  each  other  on  the  scale  by  only  half  a  tone, — C  and 
C*  for  instance, — we  shall  hear,  not  a  consecutive  tone, 
but  a  succession  of  throbs  or  beats.  Knowing  that  all 
sounds  are  caused  by  vibrations,  and  that  a  difference  in 
pitch  is  caused  by  a  difference  in  the  time  of  vibrations,  it 
is  easy  to  understand  how  these  beats  are  produced. 
Suppose  that  one  of  the  notes  is  a  result  of  fifty  vibra- 
tions in  a  second,  and  the  other  of  fifty-one.  At  the  end 
of  the  twenty-fifth  vibration  in  the  first  of  the  tones, 
there  will  have  been,  in  the  second,  twenty-five  and  one 
half  vibrations.  But  as  each  vibration  necessitates  a 
movement  in  one  direction  half  the  time,  and  in  a  con- 


224  RHYTHM  AND  HARMONY  IN  POETR  Y  AND  MUSIC. 

trary  direction  the  other  half  the  time,  the  vibrations  in 
the  first  tone  will  move  from  the  twenty-fifth  to  the  fiftieth 
in  an  opposite  direction  from  those  in  the  second  tone. 
For  this  reason  the  vibrations  causing  the  two  tones  will 
tend  to  suppress  and  to  still  one  another,  just  as  is  the 
case  where  two  waves  of  nearly  equal  size  but  contrary 
motions  come  together  at  the  mouth  of  a  river.  How- 
ever, at  the  fiftieth  vibration  in  the  first  tone,  and  at  the 
fifty-first  in  the  second,  the  vibrations  in  the  two  will 
again  move  in  the  same  direction,  and  tend  to  reinforce 
one  another.  A  difference  between  two  notes,  therefore, 
corresponding  to  one  vibration  in  a  second,  will  cause  one 
suppressed  period  and  one  reinforced  period  of  sound, — 
or  one  beat  in  a  second  ;  a  difference  of  two  vibrations, 
two  beats  in  a  second,  and  so  on.  In  a  difference  of  this 
kind  between  low  notes  caused  by  a  limited  number  of 
vibrations  in  a  second,  these  beats  are  perceptible,  as  has 
been  said,  and  are  easily  counted  ;  but  this  is  not  the  case 
when  produced  by  high  notes.  Then  one  of  two  results 
follows.  The  beats  either  become  so  numerous  as  to 
form  vibrations  causing  an  entirely  new  tone,  or  else  they 
continue  to  exist  as  beats  which  the  ear  cannot  distinguish, 
but  feels  to  be  disagreeable. 

They  form  a  new  tone  whenever  thirty-three  or  more  of 
them  occur  in  a  second — this  being  the  number  needed 
to  produce  the  lowest  of  musical  notes.  It  has  been  found 
that  whenever  the  vibrations  of  two  combined  tones 
differ,  even  if  they  be  consonant,  a  new  resultant  note 
is  produced,  and  the  number  of  vibrations  per  second 
causing  this  resultant  note,  is  always  equal  to  the  differ- 
ence between  the  numbers  of  vibrations  per  second  in  the 
tones  that  are  combined.     For  instance,  if  the  ratio  of 

combined  notes  be  that  of  four  to  five,  or  as  that  between 

15 


PSYCHICAL   AND  PHYSICAL  REASONS. 


225 


two  hundred  and  two   hundred  and  fifty,  the  resultant 
note  will  be  represented  by  1,  i.  e.,  it  will  be  caused  by 
fifty  vibrations.     The  ratios  of  the  notes  used  in  the  ordi- 
nary chords  (see  page  220)  give  these  as  resultant  notes. 
Do  and  major  third,  4:5,  difference   1,   which  represents 

the  second  octave  below  4,  i.  e.,  do. 
Do  and  the  fifth,  2  :  3,  difference   1,  which  represents  the 

first  octave  below  2,  i.  e.,  do. 
Do  and  the  second  or  upper  do,  1  :  2,  difference  1,  which 

represents  the  note  of  the  lower  octave,  i.  e.,  do. 
Do  and  minor  third,  5  :  6,  difference  1,  which  represents 

the  second  octave  below  the  fifth  of  6,  i.  e.,  la. 
Do  and  the  fourth,  3  :  4,  difference  1,  which  represents  the 

second  octave  below  4,  i.  e.,fa. 
Do  and  major  sixth,  3:5,  difference  2,  which   represents 

the  fifth  below  the  fundamental  3,  i.  e.,fa. 
Do  and  minor  sixth,  5  : 8,  difference  3,  which  represents 

the    major   sixth    below   the    fundamental    5,    i.    e., 

minor  me. 
In  the  following,  the  chords  themselves  are  placed  in 
the  treble  clef,  and  the  resultant  notes  in  the  bass  clef. 

Notes  in  the  major  triad :  Less  perfect  consonances. 

Maj.  3d.  5th.  8th.  Min.  3d.        4th.        Maj.  6th.     M in.  6th. 


The  first  three  measures  above  will  show  us  a  new  reason 
why  the  notes  of  the  major  triad  form  the  most  simple 
chord,  and  the  one  most  closely  related  to  the  tonic.  This 
is  because  the  resultant  note  of  all  of  the  tones  composing 


226  RHYTHM  AND  HARMONY  IN  POETRY  AND  MUSIC. 

the  triad  is  itself  the  tonic,  or  do,  of  the  scale  in  which  they 
are  used.  It  will  be  evident,  too,  from  what  has  been 
said,  that  often  the  resultant  notes  will  not  harmonize  with 
every  note  used  in  the  combined  sound  producing  them. 
When  they  do  not,  they  themselves,  in  connection  with 
the  tone  with  which  they  do  not  harmonize,  give  rise  to 
beats.  Beats,  therefore,  in  one  form  or  another,  are  in- 
evitable characteristics  of  discords. 

Why  does  the  ear  find  these  beats  disagreeable  ?  For 
this  reason.  They  are  interruptions  in  the  continuity  or 
regularity  of  the  vibrations.  On  page  194  attention  was 
directed  to  the  fact  that  a  musical  sound,  and  therefore 
all  the  pleasure  derivable  from  it  as  such,  is  due  to  the 
rapid  periodic,  or — what  means  the  same — the  regularly 
recurring  motion  of  the  sonorous  body  ;  and  a  noise  to  its 
non-periodic,  or  irregularly  recurring  motion. 

When  beats  occur  that  interfere  with  harmony,  there- 
fore, there  is  noise  instead  of  music.  But  noise  in  music 
not  only  violates  the  artistic  principle  which  requires  that 
like  amid  varied  effects  be  put  with  like,  but  it  com- 
municates to  the  auditory  nerves  a  series  of  shocks,  con- 
veying an  intermittent,  irregular,  disordered  excitation; 
whereas  it  is  natural  to  suppose  that,  in  all  agreeable  excita- 
tions of  the  nerves,  the  thrill  and  glow  that  are  pleasurable 
are  characterized  by  the  elasticity  and  freedom  accom- 
panying non-interference.  We  may  infer  this  from  the 
fact  that  in  nature  all  movements  are  regular  and  rhyth- 
mical. The  leaves  and  limbs  of  a  twig,  for  instance,  vi- 
brate, when  struck  by  a  blow,  as  regularly  as  does  a 
pendulum.  The  same  must  be  true  of  the  oscillations  in 
Corti's  fibres,  as  they  are  called,  in  the  cochlea  or  audito- 
rium of  the  ear.  At  any  rate,  we  know  that  only  regularly 
recurring  vibrations  can  produce   the  sensations  in  the 


PSYCHICAL   AND  PHYSICAL  REASONS.  227 

auditory  nerves  which  render   music  enjoyable.     Helm- 
holtz  says,  "  Sensations  of  Tone,"  Part  II.,  Chapter  XII. : 

"Consonance  is  a  continuous  ;  dissonance,  an  intermittent  sensation  of 
tone.  Two  consonant  tones  flow  on  quietly  side  by  side  in  an  undisturbed 
stream  ;  dissonant  tones  cut  one  another  up  into  separate  pulses  of  tone. 
This  description  of  the  distinction  at  which  we  have  arrived  agrees  precisely 
with  Euclid's  old  definition,  Consonance  is  the  blending  of  a  higher  with 
a  lower  tone.  Dissonance  is  incapacity  to  mix,  when  two  tones  cannot 
blend,  but  appear  rough  to  the  ear." 

In  conclusion,  we  may  blend  the  physiological  and 
psychological  reasons  for  the  effects  of  music,  thus :  The 
ear  has  become  habituated  through  long  experience  to 
search  for  unity  of  effect  in  sounds.  When  it  hears  musi- 
cal chords,  it  recognizes,  after  a  few  vibrations,  that  all 
the  sounds  are  exact  subdivisions  of  some  one  note, — in 
other  words,  that  what  is  heard  results  from  a  succession 
of  like  amid  varied  effects.  At  other  times,  when  the  mind 
cannot  recognize  that  this  is  the  case,  it  is  natural  to  sup- 
pose that  there  is  an  endeavor  to  recognize  the  fact,  and, 
owing  to  this  endeavor,  that  there  is  a  positive  effort  on 
the  part  of  the  organs  of  sensation  in  the  ear  to  adjust 
themselves  to  the  new  conditions  and  to  discover  ele- 
ments of  unity  and  likeness  that  do  not  exist.  That  the 
ear  is  sometimes  successful  in  doing  this,  is  proved  by  its 
acceptance  of  the  slight  variations  from  true  harmony  that 
are  found  in  the  temperate  scale.  In  decided  discords, 
however,  nothing  can  make  the  sounds  seem  to  compare, 
and  the  nerves  and  muscles  are  wearied  by  the  effort  of 
trying  to  do  it,  just  as  they  would  be,  were  they  listening 
intently  for  sounds  or  footsteps  which  they  failed  to  hear. 
Of  course,  the  nerves  of  hearing,  strained,  and  on  the  alert, 
but  without  success,  give  the  ear  pain,  not  pleasure.  Pleas- 
ure in  connection  with  sound,  aesthetic  satisfaction  in  con- 


228   RH Y THM  A ND  HA RMON Y  IN  POETRY  A ND  M USIC. 

nection  with  tone,  is  experienced  by  mind  or  ear  in  the 
degree  only  in  which  the  result  is  perceived  to  be  a  unity 
obtained  from  the  apparent  variety  of  unlike  complex 
ivholes  by  putting  together  those  that  have  like  partial 
effects. 


MUSIC  AS  A  REPRESENTATIVE  ART. 


229 


INTRODUCTION. 

A  SYSTEMATIC  arrangement  of  this  series  of  essays 
^^  would  place  "  Music  as  a  Representative  Art  "  in 
the  same  volume  as  "  Poetry  as  a  Representative  Art." 
But  it  has  been  thought  best  to  depart  from  this  arrange- 
ment on  account,  partly,  of  the  length  of  the  latter  of 
these  essays,  partly,  of  the  brevity  of  the  two  that  are  in 
this  volume,  and  partly  of  the  desirability  of  bringing 
together  under  one  cover  material  naturally  fitted  to  ap- 
peal to  those  especially  interested  in  music. 

For  another  reason,  too,  this  course  may  be  found  ad- 
vantageous. It  was  shown  in  the  first  of  this  series  of 
essays,  "Art  in  Theory,"  that  the  higher  arts,  sometimes 
called  for  this  reason,  the  humanities,  are  all  developed 
from  forms  in  which  a  man  expresses  thought  or  mental 
feeling,  which  forms,  because  thought  and  feeling  are  in- 
audible and  invisible,  are  always  adaptations  by  him,  for 
representative  purposes,  of  sights  or  sounds  furnished  by 
the  physical  phenomena  of  external  nature,  including 
the  physical  utterances  or  movements  which  are  natural 
to  the  human  beings  about  him  as  possessors  of  bodies 
as  well  as  of  minds. 

It  was  shown,  moreover,  that  the  representation  of 
mind,  or  the  expression  of  thought  and  feeling,  and  the 
representation  of  nature,  or  the  use  of  forms  unchanged 
in  appearance  from  the  way  in  which  they  are  presented 
in  the  world  about  one,  necessarily  go  together.  "  An 
artificially  shaped  machine  or  implement,"  it  was  pointed 

231 


232  INTRODUCTION. 

out,  "at  once  suggests  the  question,  'what  can  it  do?' 
But  a  drawing  or  carving  never  suggests  this  question, 
but  rather  '  what  did  the  man  who  drew  the  object  think 
about  it  or  of  it,  that  he  should  have  reproduced  it  ? ' ' 

A  further  consideration  suggested  by  the  fact  that  the 
art-form  is  an  expression  of  thought  and  mental  feeling, 
and  also  a  reproduction  of  an  appearance  of  nature,  was 
that  the  efforts  of  the  artist  must  constantly  be  turned  in 
two  apparently  different  directions,  one  tending  to  de- 
velop the  form  on  account  of  its  effects  upon  the  mind  ; 
the  other,  on  account  of  its  effects  upon  the  ear  or  eye. 
It  was  said,  too,  that  the  first  tendency  leads  him  to  de- 
velop the  possibilities  of  significance  in  the  form  ;  the  sec- 
ond tendency,  to  develop  the  possibilities  of  style  in  it, 
and,  therefore,  of  such  characteristics  as  rhythm  and  har- 
mony, which,  as  exemplified  in  poetry  and  music,  have 
been  considered  in  the  preceding  essay. 

The  essay  which  follows  has  to  do  with  form  as  expres- 
sive of  significance ;  and  it  will  serve  to  counteract  any 
erroneous  impressions,  if  such  have  been  produced,  with 
reference  to  the  exclusiveness  of  the  claims  of  form  con- 
sidered merely  as  form.  It  will  serve  to  do  this  all  the 
more  effectively  inasmuch  as  music  is  one  of  the  two  arts 
— architecture  being  the  other — concerning  the  necessity 
of  significance  in  which  there  is  the  most  need  of  argu- 
ment. For  years,  certain  writers  have  supposed  it  to  be 
an  indication  of  critical  discrimination  to  divide  the  arts 
into  those  which  they  term  the  representative  and  the 
presentative.  Reasons  why  this  distinction  is  detrimental 
to  the  true  theory  of  art,  and  to  true  methods  of  pro- 
duction in  it,  are  suggested  in  the  Preface,  as  well  as  in 
Chapters  IV.  to  VIII.  of  "  Art  in  Theory,"  and,  as  applied 
to   poetry,    are    clearly    indicated    in    chapter   XIX.    of 


IN  TROD  UCTION.  233 

"  Poetry  as  a  Representative  Art."  But,  notwithstand- 
ing proof  to  the  contrary,  the  writers  mentioned  have 
strenuously  insisted,  as  in  the  quotation  on  page  235,  that 
the  theory  that  all  art  is  representative  is  certain  to 
"break  down"  when  applied  in  detail  to  music.  How 
far  this  prophecy  has  been  justified  the  reader  of  this 
essay  will  have  an  opportunity  of  judging. 

As  will  be  unfolded  in  the  pages  that  follow,  sig- 
nificance in  music  is  derived  partly  from  its  use  of 
instinctive  methods  of  intonation  (aside  from  articula- 
tion as  in  words),  through  which  men  convey  to  one 
another  intelligence  of  particular  phases  of  feeling ;  and 
partly  from  its  use  of  methods  of  sound  coming  from 
sources  other  than  human.  The  use  of  the  first  of  these 
methods  causes  music  to  represent  the  mind  ;  the  use  of 
the  second,  causes  it  to  represent  nature  ;  but  it  is  well  to 
notice  that  the  second  method  merely  carries  further,  as 
will  be  exemplified,  a  process  which  the  mind,  according 
to  the  principle  of  correspondence y  is  constantly  employing, 
and  that  only  in  cases  in  which  sounds  of  nature  are  used, 
such  as  the  mind  has  not  previously  employed  for  purposes 
of  expression,  can  music  be  said  to  be,  in  a  strict  sense 
imitative. 

On  page  97  of  the  essay  on  "  Rhythm  and  Harmony  in 
Poetry  and  Music  "  it  was  said — and  the  statement  needs 
to  be  repeated  here — that  significance  in  music  is  deter- 
mined by  the  character  of  that  which  is  there  described  as 
the  motive.  This  motive,  itself  representative,  continues  to 
be  representative  when  developed  ;  but,  nevertheless,  it  is 
developed  almost  entirely  in  accordance  with  the  require- 
ments of  form  irrespective  of  significance.  In  this  regard 
there  is  a  close  correspondence  between  music  and  archi- 
tecture.    A    symphony    is    constructed    from    a   single 


234  IN  TROD  UCTION. 

significant  series  of  tones ;  and  precisely  in  the  same  way 
a  building  is  constructed  from  a  single  significant  series 
of  outlines,  as  in  a  rounded  or  pointed  arch.  In  both  arts, 
however,  there  is  an  occasional  return  to  nature  for  the 
purpose  of  incorporating,  if  not  imitating,  in  the  product 
some  new  expression  of  significance.  But  as  both  arts  are 
developed,  as  will  be  shown  in  the  first  chapter  following, 
from  a  sustained  and  subjective  method  of  giving  expres- 
sion to  a  first  suggestion,  a  return  to  nature  is  much  less 
frequent  in  them  than  in  the  other  arts.  Poetry,  being 
developed  from  the  unsustained  and  responsive  methods 
of  expression  underlying  language,  manifests  a  constant 
tendency  to  talk  back  and,  therefore,  to  mention  and 
describe  what  has  interrupted  the  flow  of  thought  and 
presented  new  thought.  Painting  and  sculpture,  being 
developed  from  the  same  methods  of  expression,  when 
underlying  vision,  manifest  a  constant  tendency  to  look 
back  and,  therefore,  to  imitate  and  depict  what  has  inter- 
rupted the  contemplation  of  one  object  of  sight  and  pre- 
sented another. 

This  fact,  that  certain  characteristics  of  art  are  wellnigh 
entirely  dependent  upon  form  considered  as  significant, 
while  certain  others  are  equally  dependent  on  form  con- 
sidered merely  in  itself,  makes  the  tasks  both  of  the  art- 
producer  and  of  the  art-critic  peculiarly  difficult.  To 
neglect  the  requirements  of  significance  is  to  disregard 
the  soul  of  art,  that  which  is  the  very  substance  of  its 
life ;  and  to  neglect  the  requirements  of  form  is  to  dis- 
regard its  body,  that  which  is  essential  to  its  artistic  effec- 
tiveness. 

One  might  suppose  that  fundamental  truths  like  these, 
however  artists  and  critics  might  differ  in  their  applica- 
tions of  them,  would  be  accepted  as  self-evident.    But  this 


INTRODUCTION.  235 

is  not  the  case.  A  writer  in  "  The  Nation,"  in  criticising 
the  author's  "  Art  in  Theory,"  informs  his  readers  that 
"  the  true  theory  of  the  nature  of  art,"  the  "  develop- 
ment "  of  which  theory  he  "  commends  to  students  of 
aesthetics,"  is  that  art  is  "the  application  to  anything" 
— the  italics  are  his  own — "  in  the  spirit  of  play  and  for 
pleasure  only,  of  the  principle  of  proportion.  The  arts," 
he  goes  on  to  say,  "  deal  with  a  great  variety  of  matter,  and 
by  no  means  all  of  them  with  representation.  Music  deals 
with  pure  sound,"  etc. ;  and  again,  as  if  there  were  no 
necessity  for  poetic  harmony  as  explained  in  the  last  essay, 
"  Rhyme  and  rhythm  added  to  the  expression  of  thought 
make  poetry  ;  sound  " — and  the  contrast  indicated  here, 
as  well  as  the  whole  surrounding  context  shows  that  he 
means  sound  irrespective  of  its  expressional  possibilities 
— "  sound  submitted  to  the  laws  of  harmony  and  melody 
becomes  music."  Notice  the  following,  too,  from  "  The 
Independent  "  :  "  The  author  " — of  "  Art  in  Theory  " 
— "has  apparently  found  a  dim  clue  in  the  antagonisms 
which  figure  for  so  much  in  the  evolution  of  scientific 
theories,  and  allowed  it "  i.  e.,  the  distinction  between 
significance  and  form,  "  to  beguile  him  into  the  belief 
that  it  might  be  worked  into  a  theory  of  art.  .  .  .  The 
distinction  exists  for  critical  purposes  " — and  if  so,  why 
should  it  not  be  used  in  a  critical  essay? — "but  has 
little  importance  in  reality.  Art  is  simply,  wholly  and 
entirely  a  matter  of  form  .  .  .  the  best  critical  opinion 
nowadays  assumes  the  identity  of  the  art-form  with  the 
art-meaning."  Yes,  nowadays  ;  but  there  have  been  times 
when  the  best  critical  opinion  was  represented  by  men 
like  the  poet  Schiller;  and  he  did  not  think  it  superfluous 
but  essential  to  point  out,  in  his  "  Letters  on  a  Man's 
^Esthetic  Education,"  that,  in  art,  "  form  without  subject- 


236  INTRODUCTION. 

matter  is  the  shadow  of  a  possession,  and  the  utmost 
dexterity  of  art  in  expression  is  useless  to  him  who  has 
nothing  to  express." 

Goethe  once  said  that  his  poetry  had  been  a  continual 
confession.  Suppose  that  it  had  been  merely  a  confession. 
Would  this  alone  have  made  him  the  greatest  poet  of  his 
time  ?  To  become  such,  did  he  not  need,  besides  thinking 
of  the  significance  of  that  which  he  was  to  say,  to  think 
also  of  the  form  in  which  he  was  to  say  it  ?  And  was  not 
the  significance  one  thing,  and  the  form — the  versification 
— another  thing?  And  might  he  not  have  paid  attention 
to  the  one,  and  not  to  the  other?  Most  certainly  he 
might.  But  more  than  this  is  true.  If  his  attention  had 
been  directed  chiefly  to  the  significance,  he  might  have 
ranked  with  Wordsworth ;  if  to  the  form,  with  Swinburne. 
But  just  because  it  was  directed  exclusively  to  neither ; 
just  because  he  had  a  "  dim  clue"  through  which  he  was 
"  beguiled  "  in  a  matter  of  "  little  importance,"  he  was 
careful  to  pay  due  regard  to  both,  and,  by  maintaining  the 
proper  balance  between  them,  to  rank  where  he  does — 
with  Dante  and  Shakespeare.  So  in  painting  and  sculpture. 
The  figures  of  Benjamin  West  and  Julius  Schnorr  are 
arranged  more  effectively  than  many  a  most  spectacu- 
larly significant  climax  in  a  drama;  those  of  Balthasar 
Denner  and  Florent  Willems  manifest  the  most  scrupu- 
lous regard  for  the  requirements  of  line  and  color.  Yet 
because  exclusive  attention  to  either  significance  or  form 
led  all  of  them  to  neglect  one  of  the  two,  they  never  can 
rank  with  artists  of  which  this  was  not  true — Raphael, 
Titian,  and  Rubens. 

The  same  is  true  with  reference  to  architecture.  Fif- 
teen years  ago  everybody  in  Boston  was  talking  about 
"  sincerity  "  in  art.     As  applied  to  building  a  house,  this 


INTRODUCTION.  237 

meant  that  every  respective  bath-room,  or  closet,  or  stair- 
case should  be  indicated  on  the  exterior  by  a  significantly 
constructed  window,  or  blank  space,  or  protuberance, — a 
thoroughly  sound  principle  so  far  as  it  was  applicable. 
But  with  the  narrowness  and  the  lack,  in  a  distinctive 
sense,  of  comprehension  characterizing  the  artistic  no- 
tions of  our  country,  the  principle  was  applied  to  every- 
thing— to  every  exterior  effect,  for  instance,  without  any 
regard  to  any  requirements  of  proportion  or  harmony. 
The  result  was  those  developments  of  the  "  Queen 
Anne  "  style,  which  even  the  unbalanced  conceptions  of 
American  criticism  had  sense  enough  to  nickname 
"  Bloody  Mary  "  and  "  Crazy  Jane."  Probably,  however, 
even  these  were  an  advance  upon  the  method  pursued  in 
the  construction  of  the  old  Douglas  Park  University  of 
Chicago,  a  huge  Gothic  building,  the  exterior  of  which 
is  said  to  have  been  actually  completed  before  any  at- 
tempt had  been  made  to  decide  upon  the  rooms  or  halls 
to  be  placed  in  the  interior.  Why  should  this  not  have 
been  the  case?  In  those  days,  when  men  wanted  a  meat 
market  or  a  prison,  they  put  up  indiscriminately  what  was 
supposed  to  resemble  either  a  Gothic  cathedral  or  a 
Greek  temple.  There  is  no  necessity  of  stopping  to  argue 
how  far  all  buildings  manifesting  so  partial  a  regard  for 
the  requirements  of  art  rank  below  one  in  which  the 
claims  of  both  significance  and  form  have  been  given  due 
weight,  whether  it  be  a  private  house  or  a  public  hall,  a 
villa  on  the  Rhine,  or  a  cathedral  at  Cologne. 

And  so  with  music.  The  difference  between  a  melody 
of  Offenbach  and  the  least  successful  recitative-work  of 
Wagner  is  the  difference  between  treating  musical  form  as 
if  it  were  wholly  a  matter  of  form,  and  as  if  it  were  wholly 
a  matter  of  significance.    The  difference  between  both  and 


238  INTRODUCTION. 

the  best  music  of  Wagner,  and  of  Mozart,  Beethoven,  and 
Sullivan,  too,  is  that  in  this  latter  the  equilibrium  between 
the  two  tendencies  in  art  is  maintained.  The  essays  on 
"  The  Genesis  of  Art-Form  "  and  "  Rhythm  and  Har- 
mony in  Poetry  and  Music  "  have  shown  what  is  neces- 
sary in  order  to  develop  musical  form  considered  as  form. 
The  following  essay  is  intended  to  show  what  is  neces- 
sary in  order  to  choose  as  the  germ  of  such  development, 
a  form  that  is  significant  of  a  particular  phase  of  feeling. 


MUSIC  AS  A  REPRESENTATIVE  ART. 


CHAPTER  I. 

REPRESENTATION   IN   SONG  AS  CONTRASTED  WITH  THAT 
IN   SPEECH. 

The  Sustained  Sounds  of  Singing  and  the  Uusustained  of  Talking — The 
Former  as  Developed  in  Music  and  the  Latter  in  Poetry — Differences 
between  these  Two  Methods  of  Vocal  Representation — Music  as  Neces- 
sitating Sustained  Sounds — The  Germs  of  its  Representations  are  Mainly 
in  Inarticulate  Utterance,  Instinctive  and  Associative,  rather  than  Imi- 
tative and  Comparative — The  Representation  of  Speech,  also  Depen- 
dent partly  upon  Inarticulate  Intonations — How  these  are  Related  to 
the  Various  Developments  of  Music— Representation  in  Music  not 
Distinct  and  Definite,  as  in  Words — Darwin's  Theory  of  the  Origin  of 
Music — Gurney's  Comment  on  this — Further  Comments — Why  Music 
is  not  Made  Definitely  Intelligible  or  Imitative — How  it  Represents 
both  Mental  Processes  and  Natural  Surroundings — The  Mind  of  the 
Composer  not  Necessarily  in  the  Mood  Naturally  Represented  by  his 
Music — His  Relation  to  this  Mood  that  of  a  Painter  to  the  Mood 
Represented  in  his  Model's  Pose. 

\\  J  HEN  a  man,  or  any  living*  creature,  gives  vocal  ex- 
pression to  moods  that  control  him,  there  are  two 
distinct  forms  which  this  may  assume,  both  of  which, 
however,  all  creatures  cannot  always  produce.  The 
sounds  may  be  either  sustained  or  unsustained.  A  dog, 
for  instance,  howls,  and  also  barks  ;  a  cat  purrs  and  also 
mews ;  a  bird   warbles  and  also  chirps ;  a  man  sings  and 

239 


24O  MUSIC  AS  A   REPRESENTATIVE  ART. 

also  talks.  If  these  forms  be  at  all  representative,  the  sus- 
tained sounds  must  represent  something  sustained,  and 
the  others  something  not  sustained.  As  a  rule,  an  inter- 
nal mental  process  is  continued  or  sustained  because  it  is 
not  interrupted.  As  a  rule,  too,  that  which  interrupts  is 
external  to  the  thoughts  and  feelings  which  constitute 
the  factors  of  this  process.  Interrupt  the  creature  pro- 
ducing the  sustained  sounds, — go  out  at  night  and  speak  to 
your  howling  dog,  take  the  milk  from  a  purring  cat,  the 
nest  from  a  warbling  bird,  or  the  plaything  from  a  singing 
child,  and  at  once  you  will  hear  sounds  of  the  other  form, 
— barking,  mewing,  chirping,  or  scolding  in  words.  We 
may  say,  therefore,  that  the  sustained  form  is  mainly  sub- 
jective, or  spontaneous,  and  that  the  unsustained  form  is 
mainly  relative  or  responsive.  Birds  and  men  instinctively 
sing  to  meet  demands  that  come  from  within  ;  they  in- 
stinctively chirp  or  talk  to  meet  those  that  come  from 
without.  The  singing  sounds  continue  as  long  as  their 
producer  wishes  to  have  them  ;  the  chirping  and  talking 
sounds  are  checked  as  soon  as  they  have  accomplished 
their  outside  purpose,  and  are  continued  only  by  way  of 
reiteration  or  else  of  change,  in  order  to  suit  the  changing 
effects  that  they  are  perceived  to  have  upon  the  creatures 
or  persons  toward  whom  they  are  directed.  It  is  not 
essential  that  the  sustained,  singing  sounds  should  convey 
any  definite  intelligence  to  another,  because  there  is  no 
intrinsic  necessity  that  he  should  understand  them.  But 
the  unsustained  sounds  must  convey  definite  intelligence, 
because  this  is  their  object. 

These  two  conditions  respectively  correspond,  as  will  be 
observed,  to  those  that  underlie  effects  in  music  and  in 
poetry.  It  is  to  be  shown,  in  the  discussion  which  follows, 
that  there  is  a  sense  in  which  the  former  art  as  well  as 


REPRESENTATION  IN  SONG.  24 1 

the  latter  is  representative ;  but  it  is  important  to  notice 
that  the  two  arts  are  not  representative  of  the  same  con- 
ditions. Therefore  they  do  not  represent  in  the  same 
way  nor  to  the  same  degree  either  mind  or  nature.  Music 
gives  expression  to  certain  classes  of  sustained  and  sub- 
jective moods,  joyous  or  sad,  concerning  which  there  is 
no  outside  or  objective  reason  for  imparting  any  specific 
or  definite  information.  The  moment  intelligence  of  a 
particular  mood  needs  to  be  communicated  thus,  as  in 
cases  of  outside  emergency  of  an  ordinary  character,  or  of 
those  exciting  one  to  extraordinary  petulance  or  rage,  then 
the  dog  barks,  the  bird  chirps,  and  the  man,  in  order  to 
make  himself  distinctly  understood,  uses  his  throat,  tongue, 
and  lips  in  the  various  ways  that  cause  the  distinct  articu- 
lation which  characterizes  words. 

It  is  important  to  notice,  too,  that  this  difference  dis- 
tinguishable between  the  lowest  and  most  elementary  forms 
of  these  two  methods  of  vocal  representation  is  the  only  one 
that  is  fundamental.  All  the  other  distinctions  that  can 
be  made  between  sounds  characterize  alike  those  of  song 
and  of  speech.  As  will  be  shown  in  the  next  chapter, 
sounds  differ  in  time,  force,  pitch,  and  quality.  Accord- 
ing to  the  first,  one  sound  may  have  more  duration  than 
another.  Artistically  developed,  in  connection  with  force, 
this  difference  leads  to  rhythm.  But  there  is  rhythm  in 
poetry  as  well  as  in  music.  According  to  the  second,  one 
sound  may  be  louder  than  another.  But  this  kind  of  em- 
phasis is  as  common  in  conversation  as  in  chanting. 
According  to  the  third,  one  sound  may  be  higher  in  the 
musical  scale  than  another.  Artistically  developed,  this 
leads  to  tune.  But  the  voice  rises  and  falls  in  speaking  as 
well  as  in  singing.  According  to  the  fourth,  one  sound  may 
be  more  sweet  and  resonant  than  another.     But  the  differ- 


242  MUSIC  AS  A   REPRESENTATIVE  ART. 

ences  between  pure,  orotund,  guttural,  pectoral,  and  aspi- 
rated tones,  are  as  decided  as  are  those  between  the  tones 
in  different  parts  in  singing  and  between  the  characters 
of  the  sounds  produced  by  different  musical  instruments. 

When  we  come  to  use  the  word  sustained,  however,  we 
can  say  that  in  music  a  tone  is  sustained  in  time,  with  a 
degree  of  force,  at  one  pitch,  and  with  one  kind  of  quality, 
in  a  sense  that  is  not  true  as  applied  to  speaking.  We 
may  use  articulated  words  in  a  song,  yet  there  is  a  radical 
difference  between  singing  them  and  talking  them  ;  and, 
so  far  as  concerns  merely  musical  effects,  these  can  be 
produced,  as  is  often  the  case  not  only  in  instrumental  but 
even  in  vocal  music,  without  any  of  the  effects  produced 
by  articulation. 

It  is  possible  to  separate  even  more  clearly  the  original 
germ  of  musical  representation  from  that  of  poetry.  As 
shown  in  Chapter  XX.  of  "  Art  in  Theory,"  the  elemen- 
tary tendency  mainly  developed  in  music,  is  found  in 
those  instinctive  and  always  inarticulate  ejaculations  or 
more  prolonged  utterances,  as  of  fright  or  of  pleasure, 
which  are  natural  to  a  man,  and  these  utterances,  when, 
intentionally  or  artistically  repeated  for  purposes  of  ex- 
pression, come  to  mean  what  they  do  in  fulfilment  of  the 
principle  of  association.  The  elementary  tendency  mainly 
developed  in  poetry  is  found  in  those  forms  of  articula- 
tion used  after  expression  ceases  to  be  wholly  instinctive 
and  becomes  reflective  ;  and  in  these  forms  of  articulation, 
as  shown  in  Chapter  I.  of  "  Poetry  as  a  Representative 
Art,"  a  man  begins  to  imitate  what  he  hears  and  to  make 
his  utterances  mean  what  they  do  in  fulfilment  of  the 
principle  of  comparison.  At  the  same  time,  as  pointed  out 
in  the  same  place,  association  and  comparison  are  closely 
allied  ;  and,  even  when  they  are  most  different,  expression 


REPRESENTA  TION  IN  SONG.  243 

is  developed  with  completeness  in  the  degree  only  in 
which  it  manifests  some  traces  of  both. 

Even  speech,  for  instance,  while  meaning  what  it  does 
on  account  mainly  of  articulation  is,  in  part,  also  dependent, 
precisely  as  is  music,  upon  that  which  is  not  articulation 
— but  what  we  term  intonation.  A  babe  too  young  to 
talk,  a  foreigner  using  a  language  unknown  to  us,  or  a 
friend  talking  at  such  a  distance  that  his  words  are  indis- 
tinguishable, can  each,  notwithstanding  this  disadvantage, 
reveal  to  us  something  of  his  meaning.  We  can  tell  from 
his  tones,  aside  from  his  words,  whether  he  be  excited  or 
calm,  elated  or  depressed,  pleased  or  angered,  earnest  or 
indifferent.  The  effects  thus  produced  spring,  evidently, 
from  a  natural  tendency  which  causes  the  movements  or 
directions — what  we  might  term  the  general  methods  of 
the  voice — to  correspond  to  those  of  the  motives  that 
actuate  one. 

On  account  of  this  expressional  tendency  to  fulfil,  either 
by  way  of  association  or  of  comparison,  what  may  be  termed 
the  principle  of  correspondence,  the  intonations  of  speech  may 
be  said  to  be,  in  a  true  sense,  representative.  All  of  us 
must  be  aware  that  an  acquaintance  can  be  recognized  in 
the  dark  largely  because  his  conversation  is  characterized 
by  similar  ways,  at  certain  definite  intervals,  of  moving  and 
checking  and  pitching  his  utterances  ;  in  other  words,  be- 
cause he  has  a  certain  rhythm  and  tune  of  his  own.  Make 
one  a  public  speaker  or  a  reciter  of  stories,  like  the  min- 
strel of  former  ages,  and  these  movements  of  the  voice 
will  be  made  by  him  with  more  art  and  more  regularity. 
Hence  the  origin  of  rhythm,  as  well  as  of  chanting,  among 
those  story-tellers  who  were  the  first  poets.  Make  the 
rhythm  a  little  more  marked  and  regular  and  arranged  in 
clauses  of  the  same  length,  on  the  principle  of  putting 


244  MUSIC  AS  A   REPRESENTATIVE  ART. 

like  with  like,  and  we  have  verse.  Make  the  rhythm  still 
more  marked,  by  the  use  of  similar  sounds  at  regular  in- 
tervals, and  we  have  rhyme.  Vary  the  rhythm  to  express 
different  ideas  or  classes  of  ideas,  and  we  have  the  various 
kinds  of  metre.  Vary  the  rhythm  still  more,  as  well  as 
the  upward  and  downward  movements  of  the  voice  con- 
stituting the  tune  or  chant,  and,  in  connection  with  this, 
pass  from  unsustained  to  sustained  tones,  and  we  have  a 
musical  melody.  "  We  are  justified  in  assuming,"  says 
Helmholtz,  in  Part  III.,  Chapter  IX.,  of  the  "  Sensations  of 
Tone,"  "  that,  historically,  all  music  was  developed  from 
song.  Afterward  the  power  of  producing  similar  melodic 
effects  was  attained  by  means  of  other  instruments,  which 
had  a  quality  of  tone  compounded  in  a  manner  resembling 
that  of  the  human  voice."  Of  course,  in  connection  with 
the  development  of  melody  and  the  invention  of  musical 
instruments  came  the  arrangement  of  notes  in  musical 
scales  and  the  beginning  of  harmony  ;  but  these  have  to 
do  not  with  representation  in  music,  but  with  the  methods 
of  elaborating  the  form  of  representation.  At  present,  it 
is  sufficient  to  notice  that,  when  once  we  have  a  melody 
sung  in  the  notes  of  a  scale,  we  have  but  to  combine  cer- 
tain of  these  notes,  that  is,  to  sound  do,  mi,  sol,  not  succes- 
sively but  simultaneously,  and  we  have  harmony.  If, 
now,  we  produce  both  melody  and  harmony  on  different 
musical  instruments,  and,  in  connection  with  these,  sing 
without  articulating  words,  as,  in  fact,  most  singers  do, 
we  can  yet  produce  intelligible  music  ;  or  we  can  cease  to 
use  our  voices  at  all,  and  still  do  the  same. 

Evidently,  there  is  nothing  to  prevent  the  sounds  as 
thus  developed  from  continuing  to  be  representative.  At 
the  same  time,  as  has  been  intimated,  there  is  no  reason 
why  they  should  be  representative  in  a  way  as  unmistak- 


REPRESENTATION  IN  SONG.  245 

ably  distinct  and  definite  as  we  find  in  language  ;  and  they 
are  not  so.  Berlioz,  we  are  told,  used  to  amuse  himself 
by  singing  tunes  with  Italian  words,  and  waiting  till  his 
hearers  had  demonstrated  how  successfully  the  character 
of  the  Italian  verse  had  inspired  the  composer,  when  he 
would  inform  them  that  the  music  was  from  a  symphony 
of  Beethoven.  We  must  all  have  noticed,  too,  how  scores 
of  different  sets  of  words,  describing  or  expressing  by  no 
means  the  same  experiences  or  conceptions,  may  often, 
with  equal  appropriateness,  be  sung  to  the  same  melody. 
But,  while  this  is  so,  it  is  worthy  of  note  that  in  certain 
general  features,  especially  in  expressing  certain  phases  of 
feeling,  all  these  verses  must  be  alike.  They  must  all,  for 
instance,  be  either  joyous  or  sad,  or  represent  either 
elation  or  depression.  With  this  general  and  mainly 
emotive  method  of  representation,  music  must  be  con- 
tent. 

It  may  not  prove  uninteresting  in  this  connection  to 
refer  to  a  theory  advanced  by  Darwin  in  his  "  Descent  of 
Man,"  Part  II.,  Chapter  XIX.  He  first  notices  the  fact 
that  most  of  the  sounds  corresponding  to  those  of  singing 
are  made  by  the  birds  and  lower  animals — frogs,  toads, 
tortoises,  alligators,  etc., — during  the  season  of  breeding, 
and  mainly  by  the  males ;  also,  that  a  certain  kind  of 
music  is  found  among  the  most  barbarous  people,  and 
that  not  only  among  them,  but  among  civilized  people 
also,  it  has  power  to  excite  emotions  of  tenderness,  love, 
triumph,  and  ardor  for  war.  The  sensations  and  ideas 
excited  in  us  by  music,  he  says,  appear  "  from  their  vague- 
ness yet  depth,  like  mental  reversions  to  the  emotions 
and  thoughts  of  a  long  past  age."     He  adds : 

"  All  these  facts     .     .     .     become,  to  a  certain  extent,  intelligible  if  we 
may  assume  that  musical  tone  and  rhythm  were  used  by  the  half-human 


246  MUSIC  AS  A   REPRESENTATIVE  ART. 

progenitors  of  man  during  the  season  of  courtship.  ...  In  this  case, 
from  the  deeply-laid  principle  of  inherited  associations,  musical  tones  would 
be  likely  to  excite  in  us  in  a  vague  and  indefinite  manner  the  strong  emo- 
tions of  a  long  past  age.  .  .  .  The  suspicion  does  not  appear  improba- 
ble that  the  progenitors  of  man,  either  the  males  or  the  females,  or  both 
sexes,  before  they  had  acquired  the  power  of  expressing  their  mutual  love  in 
articulate  language,  endeavored  to  charm  each  other  with  musical  notes  and 
rhythm.  The  impassioned  orator,  bard,  or  musician,  when,  with  his  varied 
tones  and  cadences,  he  excites  the  strongest  emotions  in  his  hearers,  little 
suspects  that  he  uses  the  same  means  by  which,  at  an  extremely  remote 
period,  his  half-human  ancestors  aroused  each  other's  ardent  passions  during 
their  mutual  courtship  and  rivalry." 

In  commenting  on  this  passage,  Gurney,  in  his  "  Power 
of  Sound,"  Chapter  VI.,  says  : 

"  Whether  or  not  the  theory  commends  itself  on  its  own  merits,  there  is 
no  reason  why  it  should  seem  derogatory  to  the  art  whose  effects  it  would  in 
some  measure  explain  ;  for,  at  any  rate,  the  differentiation  in  question  is  so 
complete  that  transcendentalists  can  easily  afford  to  ignore  the  early  steps  of 
it.  .  .  .  Those  who  believe  in  the  expression  of  spirit  through  matter 
need  find  no  difficulty  in  the  sublimation  of  a  spiritual  language  out  of  un- 
spiritual  associations.  .  .  .  What  was  primarily  a  simple  ultimate 
pleasure  which  the  organism  was  adapted  to  receive,  might  well  become,  in 
time,  capable  of  opening  the  floodgates  to  mighty  emotions  .  .  .  and 
so  to  tell  us  of  things  we  have  not  seen  and  shall  not  see." 

These  views  are  of  interest  here  chiefly  on  account  of 
the  confirmation  that  they  afford  of  the  antiquity  of  the 
musical  element.  In  attributing  a  conscious  and  non- 
subjective  design  to  these  sounds,  however,  if  in  nothing 
else,  Mr.  Darwin  seems  to  have  lost  sight  of  a  very  im- 
portant fact  with  reference  to  all  expressions  of  this 
character.  A  man  sings  or  hums  during  courtship,  not 
to  show  himself  off  to  his  sweetheart,  but  to  give  vent  to 
his  joy  in  having  a  sweetheart.  She  may  be  charmed  by 
the  result,  but  his  first  object  is  less  to  do  something  for 
her  than  for  himself ;  and  if  this  be  the  case  with  a  design- 


REPRESENTA  TION  IN  SONG.  247 

ing  creature  like  man,  how  much  more  likely  is  it  to  be  so 
with  birds  and  other  creatures  governed  mainly  by  in- 
stinct !  Nor  must  it  be  supposed  that  what  Darwin 
suggests,  though  it  may  be  the  main  motive,  is  the  only 
one  underlying  singing  in  these  lower  orders  of  life.  The 
solitary  canary  in  his  cage  will  sing  just  as  sweetly  when 
the  morning's  light  arouses  him  as  the  lark  looking  down 
upon  his  mate  in  the  nest  below  him. 

In  short,  there  seems  to  be  no  way  of  getting  a  true 
conception  of  the  nature  of  musical  form,  except  by  recog- 
nizing, as  all  will  readily  do,  that  in  natural  music,  with 
which,  as  distinguished  from  artistic  music,  we  are  now 
dealing,  sustained  sounds,  as  distinguished  from  the  un- 
sustained  sounds  that  we  hear  in  speech,  represent  sus- 
tained emotive  processes.  The  fact  that  they  are  sustained 
leads  us  to  infer  that  the  mind  is  in  a  subjective  state, 
and  influenced  only  slightly  by  external  considerations. 
The  slightness  of  this  influence,  moreover,  sufficiently 
explains  both  why  the  forms  of  music  are  not  made 
definitely  intelligible  to  a  listener,  and  also  why  they 
contain  so  little  of  the  imitative  element.  A  man  in  the 
subjective,  absent-minded  condition  in  which  he  takes  to 
humming,  is  usually  equally  unconscious  of  the  presence 
either  of  surrounding  persons  or  of  sounds.  He  is  not  in 
a  mood,  therefore,  either  to  address  the  one  distinctly,  or 
to  repeat  the  other  accurately. 

While  this  is  true,  however,  it  is  also  true  that  the 
sounds  produced  by  him  will  necessarily,  not  in  a  specific 
but  in  a  general  way,  represent  both  his  own  mental 
processes  and  his  surroundings.  Take  any  uncultivated 
person,  for  instance,  who  has  not  learned  to  conceal  and 
so,  to  a  certain  extent,  to  misrepresent  his  moods.  We 
shall  find  that  the  intonations  of  the  tune  hummed  by 


248  MUSIC  AS  A   REPRESENTATIVE  ART. 

him,  like  his  gait,  will  inform  us  at  once  of  the  general 
tenor  of  the  motive  impelling  him  ;  whether,  for  instance, 
it  be  hopeful  or  desponding.  This  accords  with  what  has 
been  said  already.  But  besides  this,  if  he  have  ever  heard, 
especially  if  he  have  heard  frequently,  sounds  like  the 
humming  of  bees,  the  whistling  of  winds  or  of  railway 
locomotives,  or  the  notes  of  squirrels,  quails,  whippoor- 
wills,  robins,  catbirds,  or  of  songs  sung  by  men  and 
women  about  him,  in  nine  cases  out  of  ten,  his  own  tones, 
at  times  unconsciously  to  himself,  but  nevertheless  actu- 
ally, will  imitate  some  of  these  sounds,  all  of  which,  being 
external  to  himself,  are,  so  far  as  he  is  concerned,  those  of 
external  nature.  Natural  music,  therefore,  is  representa- 
tive both  of  man  and  of  nature. 

The  art  of  music  begins  when  a  man  becomes  interested 
in  natural  music  to  such  an  extent  as  to  be  led  to  develop 
its  forms  for  their  own  sakes  (see  "  Art  in  Theory,"  Chap- 
ter VIII.).  For  instance,  one  in  an  absent-minded  way 
may  be  singing,  or  listening  to  others  who  are  singing. 
Suddenly  some  feature  of  the  sounds  attracts  his  atten- 
tion, and  he  starts  to  experiment  with  them  ;  and  soon, 
as  a  result  not  of  absent-mindedness  now,  but  of  present- 
minded  design,  he  produces  a  melody.  This  process  needs 
only  to  be  carried  on  by  different  men  for  a  few  centuries, 
and  it  will  lead  necessarily  to  elaborate  works  of  art,  the 
development  of  a  system  in  accordance  with  which  they 
may  be  composed,  and  the  invention  of  all  sorts  of  musical 
instruments  on  which  to  execute  them. 

Notice  particularly  that  the  composer  of  this  artistic 
music  need  not  himself  always  be  in  the  mood  naturally 
represented  by  it.  "  Critics,"  says  Schumann,  in  one  of 
his  letters,  "  always  wish  to  know  what  the  composer  him- 
self cannot  tell  them.     .     .     .     Good  heavens !  will  the 


REPRESENTA  TION  IN  SONG.  249 

day  ever  come  when  people  will  cease  to  ask  us  what  we 
mean  by  our  divine  compositions?  .  .  .  Where  a 
youth  of  eighteen  hears  a  world-famous  occurrence  in  a 
musical  work,  a  man  only  perceives  some  rustic  event, 
while  the  musician  probably  never  thought  of  either,  but 
simply  gave  the  best  music  that  he  happened  to  feel 
within  him  just  then."  And  Mendelssohn  says:  "  If  you 
asked  me  what  I  thought  on  the  occasion  in  question,  I 
should  say  the  song  itself,  precisely  as  it  stands." 

It  is  evident  that  the  relation  of  the  composer  to  the 
mood  naturally  represented  by  his  music  is  analogous  to 
that  of  a  painter  to  the  mood  naturally  represented  by  the 
pose  of  his  model.  All  that  the  musician  needs  to  do,  is 
to  take  some  musical  movement  resulting  from  a  particular 
mood,  and  develop  his  composition  in  a  manner  analogous 
to  this  movement,  or  consistent  with  it.  But  in  order  to 
do  this  successfully  as  a  result  of  art,  it  is  evidently  im- 
perative that  he  should  first  make  himself  thoroughly 
familiar  with  the  motives  and  methods  of  music  as  an 
expression  of  nature. 


CHAPTER  II. 

REPRESENTATION   THROUGH    MUSICAL  DURATION  AND 
FORCE:   RHYTHM. 

Similarity  of  Poetic  and  Musical  Representation — Representative  Intona- 
tions of  Elocution — Through  Duration,  Force,  Pitch,  and  Quality — Dis- 
coursive  or  Associative  and  Dramatic  or  Comparative  Elocution — Each 
Representative  according  to  the  Principle  of  Correspondence — Musical 
Duration  as  Representative — Musical  Duration  as  Representative  of 
both  Mental  Moods  and  Natural  Effects — Illustrations — Musical  Force 
as  Representative  of  both  Mental  Moods  and  Natural  Effects — Rhythm 
as  a  Combination  of  Effects  of  Duration  and  Force — Significance  of 
Rhythm — As  Representing  Moods  of  Buoyancy  and  Exhilaration — Con- 
fidence, Triumph — Self-Poise,  Dignity — The  Gliding,  Yielding,  Grace- 
ful— Hesitation,  Doubt — Disturbance,  Turmoil,  Confusion — Imitative 
Effects — Forging — Flight  Downward  —  Upward  —  Snakes  —  Water — 
Flowing  Ease — Giants'  Tread. 

lV/T USIC  has  been  said  to  represent  sustained  mental 
processes,  and  yet  to  do  this  in  only  an  indefinite 
and  general  way.  The  most  general  way  of  doing  it,  how- 
ever, involves  differences  in  the  methods  of  giving  ex- 
pression to  different  phases  of  these  processes.  It  would 
be  in  order,  therefore,  at  this  place,  to  enter  into  a  full 
discussion  of  these  different  methods.  But  the  effects  of 
music  are  subject,  in  the  main,  to  the  same  laws  of  sound 
as  are  those  of  poetry ;  and,  as  presented  in  book  form, 
poetic  effects  are  much  the  more  easy  of  the  two  to  illus- 
trate. For  this  reason,  as  well  as  because  what  the  author 
had  to  say  of  poetry  in  this  connection  was  first  prepared 
for  publication,  an  extended  treatment  of  many  of  these 

250 


REP  RE  SEN  TA  TION  THRO  UGH  M  USICAL  D  URA  TION.   2  5 1 

methods,  with  the  exact  significance  represented  by  the 
different  phases  of  each  of  them,  has  already  been  given 
in  the  volume  entitled  "  Poetry  as  a  Representative  Art," 
Chapters  IV.  to  XII.  inclusive.  Of  course,  much  that 
was  said  there,  it  would  be  superfluous  to  repeat  here. 
But  enough  will  be  recalled  to  render  the  general  subject 
intelligible  to  the  reader,  and  enough  added  to  show  its 
bearing  upon  the  special  art  now  to  be  considered. 

An  endeavor  to  ascertain  the  elements  of  representation 
in  sound  suggests,  at  once,  a  reference  to  the  art  of  elocu- 
tion. This  art  has  the  power  of  producing  through  the 
intonation  of  words,  irrespective  of  their  articulation,  an 
almost  endless  variety  of  effects ;  and  the  argument  is 
logically  irresistible  that  these  effects  are  the  same  in  kind 
as  those  of  music.  What,  then,  are  the  elements  of  elocu- 
tionary effects  ?  '  A  moment's  consideration  will  cause 
us  to  recognize  that  there  are  four  of  these.  They  can 
all  be  perceived  by  emphasizing  strongly  the  first  syllables 
of  barbarous,  murmuring,  tartarize,  Singsing,  or  papa;  or 
by  emphasizing  a  word  like  go  in  the  sentence  "  I  will  go 
if  so."  In  giving  the  emphasis  it  will  be  noticed  that  the 
emphatic  syllables  and  the  word^tf  are  made  to  differ  from 
that  which  accompanies  them,  first,  in  duration :  they 
are  sounded  in  longer  time  ;  second,  in  force  :  they  are 
sounded  with  more  energy ;    third,   in  pitch  :    they  are 

1  The  signification  of  the  methods  of  elocutionary  representation  to  which, 
in  this  essay,  those  of  music  are  correlated,  may  be  found  detailed  in  full 
in  the  author's  "  Orator's  Manual."  This  book,  first  issued  in  1879, 
has  had  an  increasing  sale — as  seems  to  be  the  case  with  "  Poetry  as  a 
Representative  Art  " — every  year  since  the  date  of  its  publication,  and  it  is 
not  too  much  to  say  that,  since  that  time,  no  other  treatise  of  acknowledged 
merit  upon  the  subject  has  been  produced  in  which,  however  much  devel- 
oped, the  explanations  then  made  for  the  first  time  have  not  been  adopted 
without  virtual  alteration. 


252  MUSIC  AS  A   REPRESENTATIVE  ART. 

sounded  on  a  key  which,  if  used  in  music,  would  be  rela- 
tively higher  or  lower  in  the  musical  scale ;  fourth,  in 
quality  :  they  are  sounded  with  more  fulness  or  thinness 
of  tone.  Simply  by  increasing  the  degree  in  which  any  of 
these  elements  enter  into  ordinary  accentuation,  we  can 
increase  the  degree  of  emphasis  represented  by  them. 

With  reference  to  these  four  elements,  it  may  be  well  to 
notice,  further,  that  duration  is  merely  an  external  effect 
of  sound,  while  force,  pitch,  and  quality  are  all  essential  to 
the  very  formation  of  it ;  different  degrees  of  force,  as  we 
learn  from  science,  being  determined  by  the  relative  size 
of  the  vibrations  causing  the  tone  ;  of  pitch,  by  their  rela- 
tive rapidity  ;  and  of  quality  by  the  relative  size  and 
rapidity  of  those  compounded  together  in  order  to  pro- 
duce any  apparently  single  tone — almost  every  tone,  as 
science  has  ascertained,  being  a  compound. 

Now  let  us  consider  the  significance  of  these  elements.1 
In  elocution  as  in  music  they  all  represent  emotive  effects  ; 
but,  at  the  same  time,  each  represents  a  certain  phase  of 
these  effects.  Moreover,  in  elocution  each  of  these  phases 
is  manifested  in  two  ways,  one  of  which  may  be  termed 
discoursive  and  the  other  dramatic.  Discoursive  elocu- 
tion, generally  termed  that  of  emphasis,  is  developed  from 
instinctive  methods  of  expression,  and  corresponds,  in  this 
regard,  to  words  formed  from  ejaculations.  It  is  used 
mainly  in  oratory.  Dramatic  elocution,  generally  termed 
that  of  personation,  is  developed  by  the  reflective  powers 
as  a  result  of  impressions  received  from  without.  Mimicry, 
in  some  form,  underlies  all  its  effects ;  for  which  reason, 
it  will  be  seen  at  once  to  correspond  to  words  formed  as  a 
result  of  imitation,  and  to  be  the  phase  of  delivery  used 
mainly  in  dramatic  acting. 

1  See  note  p.  251. 


REPRESENTA  TION  THRO  UGH  MUSICAL  D  URA  TION.   253 

Effects  in  this  latter  kind  of  elocution,  of  course,  inter- 
pret themselves.  In  discoursive  elocution  they  need 
further  explanation.  As  used  in  this,  however,  it  may  be 
said  in  general  that  they  are  based,  in  just  as  true  a  sense 
as  if  they  were  more  clearly  imitative,  upon  the  principle 
of  correspondence,  in  accordance  with  which  it  seems  to  be 
instinctively  felt,  even  when  not  consciously  thought,  that 
different  phases  and  movements  of  invisible  and  inaudible 
mental  moods  have  their  analogues  in  different  forms 
and  operations  in  the  visible  and  audible  world.  In  ful- 
filment of  this  principle,  it  is  recognized  in  ways  that 
will  be  explained  presently  that  the  element  of  duration 
measures  the  utterances,  indicating,  according  as  they  are 
short  or  long,  whether  a  subject  is  conceived  to  be  of  slight 
or  of  great  importance.  This  interpretation  of  the  mean- 
ing of  duration,  by  the  way,  shows  how  appropriate  the 
art-term  metre  or  measure  is  as  applied  not  only  to  form 
but  to  thought,  in  all  cases  in  which  the  form  accurately 
embodies  the  thought.  Again  it  may  be  said,  for  reasons 
that  will  be  given  hereafter,  that  force,  in  giving  greater 
or  less  loudness  to  utterance,  energizes  it ;  that  pitch,  by 
interpreting  the  motive,  aims  it ;  and  that  quality,  by 
manifesting  the  kind  of  feeling,  tempers  it.  Besides  this, 
it  is  well  to  notice  that  duration  and  force  together  are 
essential  to  the  effects  of  rhythm,  and  pitch  and  quality 
together  to  those  of  tune ;  rhythm  resulting  from  the 
measuring  of  time  or  movement  by  regularly  recurring  im- 
pulses perceptible  in  the  physical  world,  and  tune  from  a 
similar  cause,  detected  only  by  scientific  analysis,  operat- 
ing through  vibrations  upon  our  inner  nervous  and  men- 
tal organism. 

These  statements,  however,  are  only  preliminary.  Let 
us  pass  on  to  see  how  the  principle  of  correspondence  as 


254  MUSIC  AS  A   REPRESENTATIVE  ART. 

fulfilled,  both  in  associative  or  discoursive,  and  in  imita- 
tive or  dramatic,  elocution  can  be  made  to  apply  to  music  ; 
and  first  to  the  elements  entering  into  rhythm,  namely, 
duration  and  force.  Considering  duration  for  a  little 
without  reference  to  force,  it  is  evident  that,  from  noticing 
the  absolute  or  relative  time  of  movements  in  what  we 
hear  and  see  in  nature,  we  can  learn  that  of  which,  both 
in  words  and  deeds,  a  fast  pace  and  a  slow  pace  are  in- 
dicative ;  and  that  we  can  infer  from  this  that  of  which 
rapid  sounds  and  slow  sounds  are  indicative.  Through 
the  aid  of  this  test,  we  find  that  rapidity  is  indicative,  by 
way  of  association,  of  moods  that  are  joyous  or  mirthful ; 
or,  as  applied  to  special  thoughts  or  feelings,  of  such  as 
seem  deserving  of  only  brief  consideration  because  they 
are  light  and  trifling ;  and,  as  applied  to  natural  effects  in- 
fluencing such  moods,  that  it  is  indicative,  by  way  of  com- 
parison or  imitation,  of  those  actually  exhibiting  quick 
motion.  Slowness,  on  the  contrary,  is  indicative  of  grave 
and  serious  moods ;  of  thoughts  and  feelings  worthy  of 
long  consideration,  therefore,  of  dignity  and  importance ; 
and  of  natural  effects  that  exhibit  a  retarded  motion. 

What  has  been  said  hardly  needs  illustration.  Every- 
one can  recall  the  general  difference  in  rapidity  between 
ordinary  dance-music  as  it  is  termed,  and  church  music ; 
or  between  a  hornpipe  and  a  hymn  ;  and  he  knows,  too, 
that  this  difference  is  determined  by  the  fact  that  the  for- 
mer represent  by  way  of  association,  joyous,  mirthful, 
light,  trifling  moods  and  that  the  latter  represent  the  op- 
posite. The  same  fact  will  be  recognized  almost  as  readily 
to  be  true  of  movements  designed  to  be  representative 
not  so  much  of  moods,  i.  e.,  of  thoughts  and  feelings,  as, 
by  way  of  comparison  or  imitation,  of  outward  material 
effects.     To  prove  this,  take  some  of  the  motives,  as  they 


REPRESENTA  TION  THRO  UGH  MUSICAL  D  URA  TION.   255 

are  termed,  of  the  operas  of  Wagner,  from  whom,  as  not 
only  the  most  modern  but  the  most  prominent  of  repre- 
sentative composers,  it  is  appropriate  that  the  most  of  our 
illustrations  with  reference  to  this  subject  should  be  drawn. 
Fortunately,  too,  these  motives  have  been  put  into  such 
forms  of  notation  and  given  such  titles  that  no  one  need 
hesitate  in  a  treatise  like  this  to  point  to  them  as  authori- 
tative. Without  further  acknowledgment,  it  is  enough  to 
say  that  those  that  are  to  be  used  in  the  pages  following, 
are  to  be  found,  in  the  form  in  which  they  are  presented 
and  with  the  titles  assigned  to  them,  either  in  the  "  Guide 
through  the  Music  of  Richard  Wagner's  Ring  of  the 
Nibelung  "  of  Hans  Von  Wolzogen,  or  else  in  the  "  Wag- 
ner's Tristan  und  Isolde  "  of  Gustav  Kobbe\  Here,  to 
begin  with,  is  (1)  the  "  Motive  of  Loge,"  the  spirit  of  flame, 
taken  from  "  The  Rhinegold."     Notice  the  appropriate- 


No.  1. 


256  MUSIC  AS  A   REPRESENTATIVE  ART. 

ness,  not  so  much  now  of  the  alternating  upward  and 
downward  directions  of  pitch,  to  which  reference  will  be 
made  hereafter,  as  of  the  rapid  motion  through  which  the 
flickering  and  fluttering  of  the  flame  is  represented. 

Notice  the  equal  appropriateness  of  the  slow  time  given 
to  the  "  Motive  of  the  Love-Death,"  in  "Tristan  und 
Isolde  "  :  (2.). 


I* 


s 


& 


No.   2. 

Passing  on  now  to  force,  there  is  no  difficulty  in  finding 
what  it  too,  represents,  through  observing  the  manifesta- 
tions of  it  in  nature.  Great  force,  involving  loudness  of 
tone,  indicates,  of  course,  great  energy,  either  of  body  or  of 
mind ;  as  in  expressions  of  earnestness,  strength,  self-as- 
sertion, vehemence.  Notice  the  music  on  page  272  in 
Chapter  III.,  numbered  28  and  29.  For  an  analogous 
reason,  slight  force  involving  softness  of  tone,  indicates 
the  opposite,  i.  e.,  little  energy,  as  in  expressions  of  indif- 
ference, weakness,  gentleness,  mildness.  Notice  the  music 
numbered  9  and  81.  In  addition  to  this,  it  follows,  as  a 
matter  of  course,  that  great  force  represents  that  which 
has  a  loud  sound,  or  is  so  vast  in  size  that  its  sound  would 
be  loud  if  it  produced  any  ;  and  that  slight  force  represents 
that  which  has  a  soft  sound,  or  is  so  small  that  it  would 
have  this  if  it  produced  any.  Notice  the  music  numbered 
14  and  16. 

The  most  important  use  of  force  in  music,  however,  and 
the  same  is  true  of  duration,  is  in  cases  in  which  both  of 
these  elements  combine  in  order  to  produce  effects  of 
rhythm ;  in  cases,  that  is,  in  which  neither  duration  nor 


REPRESENTA  T10N  THROUGH  MUSICAL  DURA  TION.   2tf 

force  is  general  or  absolute  but  special  or  relative,  differ- 
ent notes  that  follow  one  another  being  distinguished  by 
different  degrees  of  length  and  loudness.  It  is  in  rhythm, 
too,  that  the  representative  features  of  both  elements 
become  most  apparent. 

A  full  discussion  of  the  different  kinds  of  rhythm,  or  of 
the  significance  of  each  kind  of  it,  is  not  needed  here.  The 
former  subject  is  discussed  in  Chapters  I.  to  VI.  of 
"  Rhythm  and  Harmony  in  Poetry  and  Music,"  and  the 
latter  subject  in  Chapters  IV.  to  VIII.  of  "  Poetry  as  a 
Representative  Art."  In  this  place,  it  suffices  to  say  that 
rhythm  is  produced  by  accenting — sometimes  through 
duration  alone,  sometimes  through  force  alone,  but  usually 
through  both  in  combination — certain  tones  separated 
from  one  another  by  exactly  the  same  intervals  of  time. 
In  music  these  accented  tones,  as  a  rule,  begin  measures. 
They  are  the  tones  immediately  following  the  perpendicu- 
lar lines  termed  bars  in  the  music  below.  In  poetry,  the 
accents  are  sometimes  at  the  ends,  and  sometimes  in  the 
middles  of  the  measures. 

With  reference  to  the  significance  of  rhythm,  it  may 
be  said  that  when  it  is  regular  and  strongly  accented,  like 
the  steady  pace  and  tread  of  a  vigorous  man  or  of  a  file  of 
soldiers,  it  indicates  conceptions  like  those  of  buoyancy 
and  exhilaration,  as  in  the  galop  (3)  : 


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MUSIC  AS  A   REPRESENTATIVE  ART. 


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No.  3. 

—  Tout  a  la  Joie  :  Phil.  Fahrbach. 

Of  confidence  and  triumph,  as  in  the  Marseillaise  Hymn, 
(see  music  No.  28)  or  in  the  ordinary  march  (4) : 


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— Among  Comrades  March  :    Carl  Faust. 

Also  of  self-poise  and  dignity,  as  in  the  minuet  (5) : 
Andante.  -=» 


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No.  5. 

— Minuet  de  la  Cour  :    C.  Coote. 


REPRESENTA  TION  THROUGH  MUSICAL  DURA  TION.   2 59 

When  the  rhythm  is  regular,  but  with  the  accent  given  at 
somewhat  unusual  relative  length  or  at  unusual  places,  we 
have  the  gliding,  yielding,  graceful  effects  exemplified  in 
the  music  in  numbers  6,  7,  and  8 : 


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No.  6. 
-Bella  Bocca  Polka  :  Emile  Waldteufel. 


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No.  7. 

— £&&  <?r  Polacca  Quadrilles  :    William  Coleman. 


Grasioso. 


260 


MUSIC  AS  A   REPRESENTATIVE  ART. 


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No.  8. 
—  Tres  Jolie  Waltz  :  Entile  Waldteufel. 

When  the  rhythm  is  not  strongly  marked,  and  is 
greatly  varied,  it  indicates  conceptions  like  those  of  hesi- 
tation and  doubt,  as  in  this  passage  (9)  from  Beetho- 
ven's pianoforte  "Sonata  in  E  Minor,"  op.  90,  which, 
according  to  Gurney  ("  Power  of  Sound,"  XIV.),  "  is  said 
to  have  been  humorously  connected  with  the  indecision 
in  the  mind  of  a  certain  noble  lover  whose  passion  for  an 
actress  had  been  expressed  in  a  preceding  theme." 


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No.  9. 


REPRESENTA  TION  THROUGH  MUSICAL  DURA  TIOJV.   26 1 

Greater  and  more  abrupt  changes  of  the  same  kind, 
either  in  duration,  or  force,  or  in  both,  represent,  of 
course,  greater  degrees  of  similar  emotions,  until,  when 
carried  to  extremes,  they  suggest,  like  explosive  sounds 
in  nature,  the  highest  possibilities  of  disturbance,  tur- 
moil, and  convulsion. 

Rhythm  that  fulfils  the  principle  of  correspondence 
in  that  it  produces  not  merely  associative,  but  also  com- 
parative and  so  distinctively  imitative  effects,  are  also  not 
uncommon.  Notice  the  suggestion  of  hammering  in  the 
"  Forging  Motive  "  of  Wagners  "  Rhinegold  "  (10)  : 


No.  10. 

Also,  in  the  same  opera,  the  "  Motive  of  the  Flight " 
which  accompanies  the  descent  to  the  earth  of  Freia,  the 
goddess  of  light  and  love  (1 1) : 


t^=S 


m  m  i 


No.  11. 


Which  reminds  us  of  the  "  Walkiiren  Motive  "  or  "  Ride 
Motive  "  in  Wagner's  "  Walktire,"  which  also  represents 
flying,  but  in  this  case  flying  upward  (12) : 


M 


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£=£ 


No.  12. 


262 


MUSIC  AS  A   REPRESENTATIVE  ART. 


In  the  "  Rhinegold,"  again,  we  have  the  "  Snake  Motive  " 
represented  both  in  the  rhythm  and  in  the  movements  ol 
pitch  (13): 


m 


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w 


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No.  13. 

Also  the  "  Motive  of  the  Primeval   Element,"   represent- 
ing the  gentle  rippling  of  water  as  in  a  river  (14) : 


♦  *: 


No.  14. 

"  In  Venice,"  says  Gardiner,  in  his  "  Music  of  Nature," 
"  where  the  people  are  constantly  moving  upon  the 
water,  the  motion  of  the  boat  suggests  the  flowing  ease 
of  triple  time,  in  which  all  their  celebrated  airs  and 
barcarolles  are  written.  A  beautiful  illustration  of  this 
movement  is  to  be  found  in  Mr.  Moore's  words  and 
music: 

"  '  Row,  brothers,  row  ;  the  stream  runs  fast ; 
The  rapids  are  near  and  the  daylight  past.' " 


The  first  line  of  which  is  as  follows : 


REPRESENTATION  THROUGH  MUSICAL  DURATION.   263 


^^ 


Faint  -  ly       as      tolls         the      eve   -   ning  chime,      Our 


^ 


voi  -  ces    keep    tune     and  our         oars 


keep  time. 


No.  15. 

— Canadian  Boat-Song  :  T.  Moore. 

Notice,  finally,  as  distinctly  representing  both  force  and 
movement,  the  "  Motive  of  the  Giants,"  from  Wagner's 
"  Rhinegold,"  in  which  we  are  supposed  to  hear  the  tread 
of  their  feet  (16): 


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nji-i  ribi  unj'u 


4,       era  1         w~7~~r^r ^_^#-b^.  s  ^-       ? 


No.  16. 


CHAPTER  III. 

REPRESENTATION   THROUGH    MUSICAL  PITCH,  HIGH  AND 
LOW,    UPWARD   AND   DOWNWARD. 

Correspondences  in  the  External  World  to  High  and  Low  Pitch — And  to  Up- 
ward and  Downward  Directions  of  it — Further  Explanations — As 
Illustrated  in  Elocutionary  Intonations — Gregorian  Chants  as  Devel- 
oped from  Elocutionary  Laws — Upward  Movements  in  Musical  Ques- 
tions— In  Anticipative  Expectancy — Downward  Movements  in  Effects 
that  are  Conclusive — Affirmative  and  Positive — Combined  Upward  and 
Downward  Movements  in  Effects  both  Anticipative  and  Conclusive — 
The  Same  Rendered  Emphatic — Imitative  Effects  :  Upward  as  in 
Rising — Downward  as  in  Sinking — In  Both  Directions. 

T  N  accordance  with  the  principle  of  correspondence  the 
conditions  of  pitch,  high  or  low,  or  its  movements  in 
directions  upward  or  downward  in  the  musical  scale,  seem 
to  be  in  exact  analogy  with  correlated  conditions  and 
directions  with  which  we  are  all  familiar  in  the  external 
world  of  space  about  us  ;  and,  like  them,  to  indicate  the 
mental  aim  or  motive.  When,  for  instance,  one  is  elated, 
he  holds  his  head  high,  and  his  movements  are  varied  like 
those  of  a  buoyant  schoolboy.  When  one  is  depressed, 
his  head  bends  downward  and  his  movements  are  few.  It 
is  the  same  with  the  utterances.  A  soaring  bird  sings  in 
a  high  and  changing  key,  a  crouching  man  threatens  or  a 
dog  growls  in  a  low  and  monotonous  key.  High  and 
varied  tones,  therefore,  seem  to  represent  elation  of  spirit, 
or  that  which  is  felt  to  be  elevating  in  its  influence  ;  and 
low  and  uniform  tones  represent  depression  of  spirit,  or 

264 


REPRESENTATION  THROUGH  MUSICAL  PITCH.      26$ 

that  which  is  felt  to  be  impressive.  These  statements 
will  be  found  sufficiently  illustrated  by  comparing  the  ex- 
hilarating music  numbered  21,  22,  28,  29,  33,  40,  43,  45, 
46,  66,  with  that  of  an  opposite  character  numbered  2,  10, 
16,  17,  24,  30,  34,  51,  52,  56,  and  63. 

The  same  is  true  with  reference  to  movements  in  the 
directions  of  pitch.  Its  tendency,  when  two  or  more 
tones  are  heard  in  succession,  may  be  upward  or  down- 
ward. When  taking  either  direction,  pitch  follows  laws 
applicable  to  all  movement.  Men  lift  their  bodies,  limbs, 
feet,  when  they  start  to  do  something.  They  let  their 
hands  fall  at  their  sides  and  sit  down  or  lie  down  when 
they  get  through  with  what  they  have  to  do.  The  lungs 
rise  in  inspiration  and  fall  in  expiration.  So  with  voices 
in  speaking.  Their  sounds  rise  when  a  man  feels  inspired 
to  begin  to  say  something,  e.g.,  "  If  s6,  I  will  go."  They 
fall  when  the  inspiration  is  over,  because  he  is  through 
saying  it,  e.g.,  "  If  so,  I  will  go."  In  other  words,  to  quote 
from  page  47  of  "  The  Orator's  Manual,"  written  many 
years  ago,  where  ample  illustrations  of  all  the  following 
statements  will  be  found  :  "  Upward  and  downward  move- 
ments of  pitch  represent  the  mental  motive.  The  voice 
rises  when  one  is  moved  to  open,  and  falls  when  moved 
to  close,  the  expression  of  an  idea.  It  must  be  borne  in 
mind,  however,  that  these  directions  of  pitch  depend  upon 
the  relations  of  utterance  to  the  sense,  and  not  merely  to 
the  sentence.  If  the  sense  does  not  close  or  open  where 
the  sentence  does,  the  tones  may  fall  before  its  close  and 
rise  at  its  end,  e.g.,  '  I  will  gd,  if  s6,'  '  Will  you  g6  ? ' 
1  No,  I  w6nt,  if  he  's  there.'  " 

We  may  extend,  and,  at  the  same  time,  explain  this  by 
saying  that  the  voice  rises  for  the  purpose  of  opening  or 
broaching    an  idea ;   that    is  to  say,  for  the  purpose  of 


266  MUSIC  AS  A   REPRESENTATIVE  ART. 

pointing  away  from  the  thought  immediately  expressed, 
e.g.,  when  one  is  inclined  to  consider  the  words  uttered  as 
merely  anticipative  or  indecisive,  in  the  sense  of  being  in 
themselves  subordinate,  insignificant,  trite,  negative,  or 
questionable,  as  contrasted  with  something  that  is  ex- 
pected to  be,  or  that  has  been,  expressed  by  the  falling 
inflection.  On  the  contrary,  the  voice  falls  for  the  pur- 
pose of  closing  or  completing  an  idea  ;  that  is  to  say,  for 
the  purpose  of  pointing  to  the  thought  immediately  ex- 
pressed, e.g.,  when  one  is  inclined  to  consider  the  words 
uttered  as  final  or  decisive,  in  the  sense  of  being  in  them- 
selves interesting,  important,  noteworthy,  affirmative,  or 
positive.  The  voice  falls  when  giving  its  sentence  in  the 
sense  either  of  having  completed  the  expression  of  a  sen- 
timent or  of  having  uttered  something  sententiously. 

In  order  to  recognize  the  degree  in  which,  even  in 
speech,  intelligence  of  the  motives  that  are  directing  the 
thoughts  or  feelings  may  be  conveyed  by  methods  other 
than  by  the  mere  articulations  which  cause  the  sounds  to 
be  words,  notice,  in  the  following  examples,  how  the  same 
phraseology  may  be  made  to  convey  entirely  different 
meanings.  Here  the  upward  inflections,  as  given  on  the 
opening  clauses,  indicate  anticipation,  or  the  fact  that 
what  is  expressed  in  them  is  subordinate  and  insignifi- 
cant, as  compared  to  what  is  expressed  in  the  concluding 
clauses : 

The  gay  will  laugh 
When  thou  art  gone  ;  the  solemn  brood  of  care 
Plod  on,  and  each  one  as  before  will  chase 
His  favorite  phantom  ;  yet  all  these  shall  leave 
Their  mirth  and  their  employments,  and  shall  come 
And  make  their  bed  with  thee. 

But  here  the  downward  inflections,  as  given  on  precisely 


REPRESENTATION  THROUGH  MUSICAL  PITCH.      267 

the  same  opening  clauses,  indicate  conclusiveness,  or  the 
fact  that  what  is  expressed  in  them  is  interesting,  impor- 
tant, and  noteworthy,  entirely  aside  from  that  which  is 
expressed  in  the  concluding  clauses. 

The  gay  will  laugh 
When  thou  art  gone  ;  the  solemn  brood  of  care 
Plod  on,  and  each  one  as  before  will  chase 
His  favorite  phantom  ;  yet  all  these  shall  leave 
Their  mirth  and  their  employments,  and  shall  come, 
And  make  their  bed  with  thee. 


Notice  also  the  following :  "  We  all  know  his  wdrd  is  a 
little  uncertain,"  indicates  the  trite,  the  well  known. 
"  We  all  know  his  word  is  a  little  uncertain,"  indicates 
the  noteworthy,  the  important.  "There  is  a  path  through 
the  wdods  here,"  indicates  indecision  in  view  of  the  doubt- 
ful. "  There  is  a  path  through  the  woods  here,"  indicates 
decision  in  view  of  what  is  not  considered  doubtful.  "  It 
must  be  so,"  indicates  the  questionable  ;  "  It  must  be  so," 
indicates  positive  assurance.  "  He  declaims  very  well," 
gives  questionable  praise  to  the  mediocre;  "  He  declaims 
very  well,'"'  positively  commends  the  excellent.  "  John 
has  returned  h6me,"  questions  the  action,  and  produces 
the  effect  of  disapproval ;  "  John  has  returned  home," 
expresses,  at  times,  just  the  opposite. 

That  similar  principles  apply  to  the  movements  of  pitch 
in  the  melody  of  music,  we  might  infer  as  a  result  of  con- 
sidering the  subject  theoretically.  But  we  can  not  only 
infer  it  but  perceive  it  as  a  result  of  a  practical  study  of 
facts.  Notice  the  following  text,  (17)  which  was  connected 
with  the  notation  of  the  Gregorian  chants,  written  in  the 
sixth  century.  Whether  Pope  Gregory  (a.D.  590-604) 
originated  these  methods,  or  derived  them  from  Pope  Syl- 


268 


MUSIC  AS  A   REPRESENTATIVE  ART. 


jt=& 


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s 


1    1    1    I 


i    i    i 


Sic  can -ta  com-ma,     sic  du  -  o  punc-ta:     sic    ve  -  ro  punctum. 
Thus  sing  the  com-ma,    and  thus  the  co  -  Ion :    and  thus  the  full  stop. 


I 


p  *  *  p 


9 


_ p m. — m r f" 

Mil  -u£ 


Sic  signum   in-ter 
Thus  sing  the  mark  of 


ro  -  ga  -  ti  -  o  -  nis. 
in  -  ter  -  ro  -  ga-tion. 

No.  17. 


vester  (a.D.  314-335),  as  is  sometimes  said,  or  from  St. 
Ambrose  (a.D.  341-397),  or  whether  all  of  these  derived 
them  from  the  ancient  Romans  or  the  Greeks,  it  is  now 
acknowledged  that,  historically,  all  our  modern  European 
systems  of  melody,  and,  through  them,  of  harmony  have 
grown  out  of  these  chants,  or  at  least  have  come  down  to 
us  through  them.  Could  a  stronger  proof  be  afforded 
that  music  is  a  development  of  that  which  in  its  incipiency 
is  representative?  These  chants  to  which,  or  through 
which,  all  modern  music  is  traceable,  were  deliberately 
composed  in  order  to  be  this,  and  nothing  else. 

The  representative  character  of  the  movements  of  musi- 
cal pitch  is  wellnigh  equally  manifested  in  modern  melodies. 
Except  where  the  significance  of  these  depends  upon  their 
connection  with  harmony,  which,  as  will  be  shown  pres- 
ently, introduces  another  principle,  it  will  be  found  that 
almost  always  in  the  degree  in  which  they  commend 
themselves  to  general  taste  to  such  an  extent  as  to  con- 
tinue to  preserve  their  popularity,  in  that  degree- they 
parallel  the  movements  natural  to  the  speaking  utter- 
ance of  the  sentiments  to  which  they  give  expression. 
Notice,  for  example,  how  distinctly  the  theme  of  the  fol- 
lowing asks  a  question  : 


REPRESENTATION  THROUGH  MUSICAL  PITCH.      269 


li 


m 


K-K 


$    S  1 


>  ^  !      * 


A— IV 


5^5 


-K— & 


:££ 


#    #    y 


-^— *- 


-* — #-^- 


te 


s 


If      a   bo-dy     meet    a   bo-dy,  Com-in'    thro'  the    rye, 

KJ\ n 


S   U     •  '   ?. 


-£— A- 


* 


i3t 


If      a  bo-dy      kiss    a    bo-dy,  Need  a       bo-dy    cry  ? 

No.  18. 

— Comiri  thro*  the  Rye  :   Scotch  Melody. 

So,  too,  how  both  melody  and  harmony  unite  in  order  to 
produce  this  same  effect  in  the  "  Motive  of  the  Question 
to  Fate,"  in  Wagner's  "  Walkiire  "  (19)  : 


m 


^A 


S 


ts: 


m 


at 


w 


No.  19. 

Notice,  again,  how  distinctly  the  motive  in  Wagner's 
"  Gotterdammerung,"  termed  the  "  Wedding  Call,"  ex- 
presses anticipation,  and,  in  this  case,  in  the  absence  of 
any  minor  tendency,  joyous  anticipation  (20) : 

-1 


i 


£ 


■3 


§ 


No.  20. 


Again,  notice  how  both  harmony  and  melody  join  to 
emphasize  anticipation  carried  to  a  pass  of  exuberant  ex- 
pectancy in  the  cry  of  Brunhilde,  in  the  same  opera,  as 
waking  from  her  sleep  of  ages  she  greets  the  world  once 
more  (21) : 


270 


MUSIC  AS  A    REPRESENTATIVE  ART. 


grffi^ml 


p%&?f 


m 


1       \\&  •  |  1  ^< g 


No.  21, 


In  the  "  Walkiire  "  precisely  the  same  feeling  is  conveyed 
by  the  "  Motive  of  Siegfried  the  Walsung,"  himself  the 
representative  of  anticipative,  buoyant,  hopeful,  enthusi- 
astic youth  (22). 


*r*   ,-  \ 


m 


t-t-rf  f  g 


r-v  & 


8=h»= 


Bi  Mi^ife  .^fe'H 


s 


No.  22. 

In  contrast  to  these,  notice  the  conclusive  effect  of  the 
downward  movement  in  what  is  called  the  "  Slumber 
Motive,"  suggesting  rest  from  labor,  in   the  "  Walkiire  " 

(23): 


$ 


cs 


*=?■ 


m 


-l-etc. 
3= 


No.  23. 


Also,  in  the  same  opera,  the  more  affirmatively  and  posi- 
tively conclusive  effects  of  the  "  Motive  of  Renunciation  " 

(24): 


REPRESENTATION  THROUGH  MUSICAL   PITCH.      27 1 


SI 


No.  24. 
And  of  "  Godly  Wrath  "  (25)  : 


& 


~f—& 


B4 


±. 


w 


^m 


-etc. 


No.  25. 

In  most  music,  as  in  most  speech,  we  have  both  antici- 
pative  upward  movements  and  also  conclusive  downward 
ones.     Here  are  both  in  a  comparatively  mild  form  : 


^-fsirj;^iJ.|j.d3tfcfefej 


m 


'Mid   pleasures  and  pal  -  ac  -    es,     Tho'  oft  we  may  roam, 

A-r— I c IV- 


g^g 


S3 


fcfcziafcfc 


Be   it     ev  -  er    so  hum  -  ble,  There's  no  place  like  home. 

No.  26. 

— Home,  Sweet  Home  :  J.  H.  Payne. 


4-#- 


E 


■f=— s- 


A 


*=f 


Tho    Freedom  now  so  seldom  wakes ;  The  on-ly  throb  she  gives 


I 


r  *  1  J.  j 


- — #- 


ffi 


^ 


Bt 


•—^-7-^ 


Is  when  some  heart  indignant  breaks  To  show  that  still  she  lives. 

No.  27. 
—  The  Harp  that  once  through  Tara's  Halls  :    T.  Moore. 


272  MUSIC  ASA    REPRESENTATIVE  ART, 

Here  are  both  in  a  very  emphatic  form  : 


i 


13 


t=*=Z 


5±5: 


SEE 


-*-^H4 


ape 


5 


■4-g- 


$-v- 


To   arms!     to  arms!  ye  brave!  The   pa  -  triot  sword  unsheath; 


«£ 


p^r&nN 


31 


§ 


March  on,  march  on,    all  hearts  resolved  On  lib   -    er-ty  or  death. 

No.  28. 

— Marseillaise  Hymn  :  Rouget  de  Lille. 


And  in  the  peculiar  combination  in  the  following  of  both 
upward  and  downward  movements,  anticipation  seems  to 
be  represented  as  certain  of  positive  realization ;  the  Eng- 
lish translation  of  the  words  set  to  the  first  line  being, 
"  Look  how  the  rays  of  the  sun  streaming  bright  shed  its 
radiance  around,  let 's  be  up  and  doing." 


i 


H 


B3B  ;  Kg 


* 


p  r-"J  EWW."-J|rr<-?i;-t 


f^?*!SM^Z 


-etc 


No.  29. 
— Anvil  Chorus,  II  Trovatore  :  Verdi. 

As  illustrations  of  upward  and  downward  directions  of 
pitch,  representative,  in  the  sense  of  fulfilling  the  princi- 
ple of  correspondence  in  such  a  way  as  to  be  distinctly 
imitative  of  outward  natural  effects,  notice  in  Wagner's 


REPRESENTATION  THROUGH  MUSICAL  PITCH.      273 

"Rhinegold,"  the  "Motive  of  the  Rising  Treasure,"  the  title 
of  which  should  sufficiently  explain  its  significance  (30) : 


m 


1* 


No.  30. 


3= 


a* 


5i4  1 


Also,  in  the  same  opera,  in  the  "  Motive  of  the  Nornes," 
the  representation  of  Erda,  the  mother  of  earth,  as,  with 
her  daughters,  the  Nornes,  she  comes  up  from  belowfjl): 

7  1      1 


m 


& 


3^=2 


m 


E 


No.  31. 


and  then  the  "  Motive  of  the  Gotterdammerung,"  which 
represents  her  as  she  sinks  downward  again  (32) : 


I 


jfefc      f      Ei— Mfli 


^m 


No.  32. 

Notice,  also,  further  on  in  the  same  opera,  the  upward  and 
downward  representation  in  the  "  Rainbow  Motive  "  (33)  : 


No.  33. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

REPRESENTATION  THROUGH  MUSICAL  PITCH  :  COMBINED 
WAVE-MOVEMENTS. 

The  Meaning  of  the  Elocutionary  Circumflex  or  Wave-Movements — Further 
Explanations — How  these  Conditions  are  Paralleled  in  Music — Illustra- 
tions of  Inconclusive  Uncertainty — Ending  with  Positive  and  Decisive 
Effects — Of  Anticipation  Ending  with  Finality — Of  the  Indecisive 
ending  with  the  Decisive — Of  Hope,  ending  with  Doubt — Of  Irony, 
Mockery — Other  Illustrations. 

"DESIDES  the  simple  upward  and  downward  directions 
of  pitch,  there  are  cases  in  elocution  in  which,  on  a 
single  emphatic  word,  the  tones  are  made  to  move  in  both 
directions.  The  result  gives  us  what  is  termed  the  cir- 
cumflex inflection,  or  wave.  Its  representative  effect,  of 
course,  is  to  indicate  a  combination  of  the  motives  natu- 
rally expressed  by  a  movement  in  each  of  these  directions. 
In  other  words,  it  points  both  away  from  an  idea  or  feel- 
ing expressed  as  important  on  account  of  its  relation  to 
something  else,  and  it  also  points  to  the  same  idea  or  feel- 
ing as  important  in  itself.  We  find  this  inflection,  some- 
times, in  consecutive  discourse,  as  in  the  following,  where 
the  speaker,  in  uttering  the  word  independence,  is  thinking 
of  its  results,  and  of  pointing  away  to  them,  as  well  as  of 
itself  and  of  pointing  to  it  : 

Set  before  them  the  glorious  object  of  entire  independence,  and  it  will 
breathe  into  them  anew  the  breath  of  life. 

For  a  similar  reason,   to   indicate  that    a   word   is  used 

274 


REPRESENTATION  THROUGH  MUSICAL  PITCH.      2?$ 

largely  on  account  of  its  suggestions  of  other  things,  we 
find  the  same  inflection  in  cases  of  comparison,  as  in  "He 
is  the  Gladstone  of  America "  ;  and  also  in  cases  of 
contrast,  as  in  "  I  did  not  speak  of  feeling,  but  of  will." 
Once  more,  we  find  it  used  very  strongly  in  cases  of  double 
entendre  or  equivocacy,  involving  innuendo,  sarcasm, 
satire,  mockery,  irony,  in  which  it  is  necessary  to  point 
away  from  the  whole  phraseology  to  a  meaning  that  is  not 
in  it,  but  can  be  put  into  it  by  the  intonations,  as  e.g.,  in 
"  Oh,  he  is  an  honest  man,  he  Is  !  " 

To  understand  the  whole  influence  of  this  circumflex 
inflection,  it  needs  to  be  added  also  that  the  direction, 
whether  upward  or  downward,  which  is  most  strongly 
emphasized  in  it — which,  in  speech,  is  the  direction  with 
which  it  concludes — is  that  which  indicates  the  predomi- 
nating motive.  If  the  conclusion  be  in  the  upward  direc- 
tion, the  predominating  motive  is  that  which  suggests 
the  anticipative,  indecisive,  subordinate,  insignificant, 
trite,  negative,  or  questionable  ;  and  if  it  be  in  the  down- 
ward direction  it  suggests  the  conclusive,  decisive,  or  in 
itself  interesting,  important,  noteworthy,  positive,  or 
affirmative.  Both  statements  may  be  illustrated  suf- 
ficiently in  the  sentence,  "  I  did  not  speak  of  feeling,  but 
of  will." 

Now  notice  how  exactly  these  conditions  are  paralleled 
in  music.  First  of  all,  glancing  back  at  that  numbered 
29,  it  will  be  observed  that  in  connection  with  the  down- 
ward directions  in  the  first  four  bars,  the  general  move- 
ment, as  emphasized  in  each  of  the  longer  notes,  is 
upward.  In  this  case,  recalling  that  the  downward 
movements  are  positive  and  decisive  while  the  upward  are 
anticipative  and  indecisive,  we  shall  perceive  why  it  is  that 
in  the  predominance  of  the  latter,  the  movement,  as  a 


2?6 


MUSIC  AS  A   REPRESENTATIVE  ART. 


whole,  has  the  effect  of  positive  and  decisive  anticipation. 
So,  too,  in  the  "  Motive  of  Loge,"  No.  i,  we  can  perceive 
why  it  is  that  in  connection  with  the  alternating  down- 
ward and  upward  directions,  the  predominance  of  the 
latter  should  represent  not  only  the  positive  and  decisive 
nature  of  the  flame,  but  also,  on  the  whole,  its  generally 
anticipative  and  therefore — inasmuch  as,  in  itself,  it  is 
evil — threatening  character.  Here,  again,  in  the  "  Motive 
of  Growing  Twilight,"  in  Wagner's  "  Rhinegold  "  (34),  we 
have  these  alternating  directions,  concluding  with  the 
downward  movement ;  indicating,  therefore,  the  incon- 
clusive uncertainty  of  the  change,  ending,  nevertheless, 
with  conclusive  certainty. 


h      1 


w- 


Kg  IgfBg 


g~arTT=» 


f 


m 


1 


w¥l 


& 


•Vb* 


m. 


m 


$& 


-etc. 


rrr 

No.  34. 


So,  too,  in  the  "  Motive  of  the  God's  Trouble,"  in  the 
"  Walkiire,"  we  can  perceive  the  influence  of  the  two  ten- 
dencies ending,  as  only,  perhaps,  would  be  possible  in  the 
experience  of  a  god,  with  that  which  makes  the  positive 
and  decisive  predominate  (35). 


J3£L&5«5 


No.  35. 


REPRESENTATION  THROUGH  MUSICAL  PITCH.      2yy 


In  the  same  opera  we  have,  too,  "  The  Motive  of  Pursuit," 
which,  beginning  with  alternating  movements  that  have 
more  of  anticipation  than  of  finality  in  them,  mounts  up- 
ward, and  then  ends  with  more  in  them  of  finality  (36) : 


gg     m  .  jjg    ,f--  jjg  kg-    ft,         g  ■  ft,    fr» 


£i 


P  °g  T-  g 


^ 


FN 


E=a 


jgS 


r— T? 


1 


^ 


IS  ft/3i 


«: 


No.  36. 

In  Fricka's  coaxing  song  in  Wagner's  "  Rhinegold," 
called  the  "  Motive  of  Love's  Fascination,"  which  might 
better  be  called  "  of  Coquetry,"  we  can  perceive  the  same 
alternation  of  the  anticipative  and  indecisive  with  the 
conclusive  and  decisive,  but,  at  the  same  time,  with  much 
more  evidence  of  the  predominance  of  the  latter  (37) : 


I 


■fP-r 


m^P^VA 


$ 


im 


T^w 


No.  37. 


The  same  can  be  affirmed  of  the  alternating  hope  and 
doubt  expressed  in  the  "  Motive  of  the  Love  of  Life"  in 
the  same  author's  "  Siegfried  "  (38)  : 

It  has  been  said  that  the  circumflex  inflection  or  wave, 
pointing  to  and  also  away  from  a  word,  indicates  not 
only  a  double  reference,   as  in  the  case  of  an  expression 


278 


M  USIC  ASA    REP  RE  SEN  TA  TIVE   AR  T. 


No.  38. 

embodying  a  comparison  or  a  contrast,  but  also  sarcasm, 
innuendo,  irony,  in  that  it  clearly  insinuates  a  meaning 
not  at  all  indicated  by  the  words  aside  from  the  in- 
tonations. Observe  now  how  exactly  the  intonations 
appropriate  for  these  suggestions  are  reproduced  in 
Wagner's  "  Gotterdammerung "  in  what  are  called  the 
"  Motive  of  the  Shout  of  the  Fairies,"  No.  39,  and  of  the 
"  Fairies'  Mockery,"  No.  40 : 


Pi 


^m 


m 


U-  t  r;f=H^ 


.     s  •■ 


t=t 


¥-*■ 


fc=g=HggE=fe 


*=^^i*E& 


1 


¥ 


t=* 


No.  39. 


£3   :  g  -^-=^^=z^=^r— fl 


# 


? 


6. 


t=fc 


jg — B 


No.  40. 


REPRESENTATION  THROUGH  MUSICAL  PITCH.      279 

Distinctively  imitative  methods  based  upon  these 
arrangements  of  pitch  can  be  recognized  sufficiently  by 
noticing  again  the  upward  and  downward  flickerings  of 
the  flame  in  the  "  Loge  Motive,"  No.  1,  the  indecision 
indicated  in  the  passage  from  Beethoven,  No.  9,  the 
"Snake  Motive,"  No.  13,  and  the  "Water  Motive,"  No. 
14 ;  as  also  by  the  phrases  imitating  the  utterances  of 
birds,  hens,  dogs,  asses,  and  of  men,  when  yawning,  sneez- 
ing, and  coughing,  as  illustrated  in  Chapter  VIII. 


CHAPTER  V. 

REPRESENTATION   THROUGH   BLENDING  OF  PITCH   AS  IN 
MUSICAL  HARMONY. 

Elocutionary  Use  of  Pitch,  when  Indicative  of  Suspense — Blending  of 
Harmonic  and  Inharmonic  Intervals  of  Pitch,  as  Analogous  to  Effects 
of  Quality — Meanings  in  Speech  of  the  Major  and  the  Minor  Interval 
— Their  Meanings  in  Music — Further  Explanations — The  Subdomi- 
nant,  Dominant,  and  Tonic — Complete  and  Incomplete  Cadence — 
Explanations  of  their  Erfects — Meanings  of  Upward  and  Downward 
Elocutionary  Harmonic  Cadences — Illustrations  of  the  Satisfying  Effects 
of  Upward  Musical  Major  Cadences — Unsatisfying  Effects  of  Upward 
Minor  Musical  Cadences — Satisfying  Effects  of  Downward  Major 
Cadences — Unsatisfactory  Effects  of  Downward  Minor  Cadences — Wag- 
ner's Use  of  Upward  Anticipative  Movement  Followed  by  Downward 
Minor  Cadences. 

T^HERE  is  still  another  form  of  elocutionary  emphasis 
imparted  by  pitch,  of  which  no  mention  was  made 
in  the  preceding  chapter.  The  voice  may  not  only  rise, 
fall,  and  do  both,  but  it  may  also  do  neither.  It  is  sel- 
dom, when  there  is  emphasis,  that  there  is  absolutely  no 
change  in  pitch.  Where  a  word  contains  two  syllables, 
one  of  them  accented,  it  is  impossible  that  there  should 
be  no  change.  But  the  change  may  be  so  slight  as  to 
suggest  unmistakably  neither  that  which  is  upward  nor 
that  which  is  downward.  When  this  is  so,  the  effect  is 
evidently  one  of  mere  suspense,  as  in  uttering  the  words : 

"  To  die — to  sleep — to  sleep  !     Perchance  to  dream." 

— Hamlet,  III.,  i  :   Shakespeare. 
280 


REPRESENTA  TION  THROUGH  BLENDING  OF  PITCH.   28 1 

The  applications  and  developments  of  this  form  of  in- 
flection, both  in  elocution  and  in  music,  but  especially  in 
the  latter,  are  very  important.  So  far  as  the  tone  is  not 
absolutely  upon  one  pitch,  which,  as  was  said,  is  seldom 
the  case,  that  which  is  representative  in  the  expression, 
aside  from  the  fact  of  its  moving  upward  or  downward, 
is  determined  by  the  intervals  of  pitch  separating  the  be- 
ginning and  the  end  of  the  inflection.  In  uttering  the 
final  words  of  the  sentences,  "  I  will  go  "  or  "  I  am  going," 
the  voice,  on  the  single  syllable  "  go  "  or  on  the  two  syl- 
lables "  going,"  glides  from  one  tone  to  another  so  rapidly 
that  the  two  tones  have  the  same  general  effect  that  they 
would  have,  were  they  uttered  simultaneously.  If,  there- 
fore, the  two  tones  be  separated  by  what  is  recognized  to 
be  an  harmonic  interval  of  the  musical  scale,  they  together 
produce  harmony  ;  if  not,  they  produce  discord. 

Harmony  and  discord,  as  thus  produced  by  the  blend- 
ing together  of  two  tones,  have  an  effect  analogous  to 
that  of  quality  in  a  single  tone,  which  also  is  produced  by 
the  blending  together  of  certain  partial  tones  of  which  it 
is  composed.  (See  Chapter  XIV.  of  "  Rhythm  and  Har- 
mony in  Poetry  and  Music")  For  this  reason,  the  harmony 
or  the  discord  caused  by  the  relative  intervals  of  pitch 
separating  the  beginning  and  the  end  of  an  inflection,  do 
not  express,  as  pitch  does,  the  motive  or  aim  of  the  utter- 
ance, but  rather,  as  quality  does,  the  emotive  nature  of 
the  mood  behind  the  utterance.     (See  page  171.) 

As  represented  in  sound,  it  may  be  said  that  every 
mood  that  is  absolutely  normal,  because  healthful,  strong, 
buoyant,  joyous,  or  unimpeded,  or,  to  state  this  in  a  gen- 
eral way,  every  mood  in  which  the  conditions  appear  to 
the  mind  to  be  satisfactory,  naturally  tends  to  harmonic 
expression.     On  the  contrary,  every  abnormal,  unhealthy, 


282  MUSIC  AS  A   REPRESENTATIVE  ART. 

because  weak,  depressed,  sad,  or  impeded  mood,  or  every 
mood  in  which  the  conditions  appear  to  the  mind  to  be 
unsatisfactory,  because  leaving  conceptions  in  a  state  of 
suspense,  naturally  tends  to  inharmonic  expression.  This 
latter  is  what  we  hear,  therefore,  in  the  moaning  and 
crying  of  weakness,  in  the  fretting  and  complaining  of 
hopelessness  and  misery,  and  in  any  habits  of  tone,  like 
the  so-called  "  ministerial/'  which  are  produced  by  dwel- 
ling upon  the  more  pathetic  aspects  of  subjects.  The  im- 
pression conveyed,  in  all  these  cases,  is  that  thought  and 
feeling  are  waiting  for  a  desired  consummation  that  delays 
coming. 

As  represented  in  music,  this  inharmonic  effect  is 
expressed  in  what  is  termed  the  minor  interval  (see 
"  Rhythm  and  Harmony  in  Poetry  and  Music,"  page 
21 8),  which,  while  itself  not  absolutely  inharmonic — if  it 
were  so  it  could  not  be  used  as  a  factor  of  musical  har- 
mony,— is,  nevertheless,  suggestive  of  a  lack  of  harmony  ; 
and  it  is  this  fact  that  accounts  for  the  associations  that 
all  have  with  this  interval.  It  is  the  musical  adapta- 
tion of  that  which,  in  speech,  represents  suspense,  and, 
therefore,  the  depressed  and  pathetic.  There  are  other 
conditions,  too,  that  distinguish  the  minor  cadence  as 
used  in  speech  and  in  music.  In  music,  the  minor  cadence 
is  not  always  determined  by  the  pitch-relations  to  one  an- 
other of  two  or  more  final  notes  of  a  melodic  phrase,  but 
is  also  determined  by  the  harmonic  relations  to  one  another 
of  the  chords,  which,  according  to  the  laws  of  the  key  in 
which  the  melody  is  arranged,  harmonize,  as  is  said,  the 
last  two  or  more  notes  of  a  melodic  phrase.  Even  where 
the  chords  do  not  actually  accompany  the  melody,  the 
ear,  owing  largely  to  association,  seems  to  recognize  the 
relationship  to  such  chords  of  the  tones  of  the  melody. 


REPRESENTATION  THROUGH  BLENDING  OF  PITCH.  283 

With  reference  to  the  result  of  all  this,  so  far  as  it 
can  be  explained  without  going  into  a  discussion  of  the 
origin  of  musical  scales  and  chords  (see  "  Rhythm  and 
Harmony  in  Poetry  and  Music,"  Chapters  XIV.  and 
XV.),  it  may  be  said  that  in  music  the  satisfying  effects 
corresponding  to  those  of  the  harmonic  cadence  are  con- 
veyed by  series  of  chords  that  resolve,  as  is  said,  into  the 
major  chord  of  that  which,  for  the  time  being,  is  the 
keynote. 

This  statement  may  be  made  more  clear  to  those  not 
musicians  by  saying  that  in  any  given  scale  represented  by 
the  syllables  do,  re,  mi,  fa,  sol,  la,  si,  and  do,  the  do  is  the 
keynote,  and  that  the  notes  represented  by  do,  mi,  and 
sol  are  those  comprising  the  major  or  principal  chord  of 
the  keynote.  In  hearing  the  scale  sung,  we  become 
accustomed  to  expect  it  to  end  after,  in  ascending  it, 
we  have  heard  si,  and  after,  in  descending  it,  we  have 
heard  re.  Any  chord,  therefore,  that  brings  in  si  or  re, 
especially  if  either  be  made  prominent,  has  a  tendency  to 
suggest  that  the  phrase  composed  of  the  series  of  chords 
being  sounded  is  about  to  be  brought  to  a  close.  It  so 
happens  that  both  si  and  re  are  in  the  major  or  principal 
chord  based  upon  sol.  For  this  reason,  in  order  to  produce 
a  thoroughly  satisfying  closing  effect  in  harmony,  this 
major  chord  based  upon  sol,  which  is  called  that  of  the 
dominant,  must  precede  the  chord  based  upon  do,  which 
is  called  the  chord  of  the  tonic.  Moveover,  when  pro- 
ducing a  complete  harmonic  musical  cadence,  a  fourth 
note,  in  addition  to  the  three  notes  constituting  the  major 
chord  of  the  dominant,  is  often  used,  making  the  whole 
chord — naming  the  notes  according  to  those  in  the  scale 
of  the  keynote — sol,  si,  re,  and  fa.  This  forms  the  chord 
of  the  seventh,  as  explained  on  page  218  of  "Rhythm 


284  MUSIC  AS  A   REPRESENTATIVE  ART. 

and  Harmony  in  Poetry  and  Music."  The  reason  for 
introducing  this  fourth  note  is  because  it  is  not  in  the 
highest  sense,  or  perfectly,  harmonious  with  the  rest  of  the 
same  chord — i.  e.,  with  the  combination  made  up  of  sol,  si, 
and  re.  Its  effect,  therefore,  is  to  cause  the  chord  as  a  whole 
to  seem  slightly  discordant.  But  that  for  which,  when 
listening  to  a  series  of  chords,  the  musical  ear  is  in  search, 
is  harmony.  Whenever,  therefore,  it  does  not  hear  this, 
it  is  forced,  by  a  law  of  nature,  to  desire  to  have  the  move- 
ments of  the  chords  continue  till  the  perfectly  harmonious 
is  reached.  For  this  reason,  the  chord  of  the  seventh 
augments  the  feeling  of  unrest  and  dissatisfaction,  and 
prepares  the  mind,  by  way  of  contrast,  for  the  restful, 
satisfying  closing  effect  of  the  major  chord  of  the  key- 
note when,  at  the  next  sound,  the  phrase  is  brought  to  a 
conclusion. 

Still  more  to  augment  the  same  series  of  effects,  the 
series  of  chords  used  in  the  harmonic  cadence,  when  it 
is  absolutely  complete,  starts  with  the  chord  of  the  sub- 
dominant,  as  it  is  called — i.  e.,  the  major  chord  of  the  note 
represented  by  fa  in  the  scale  of  the  keynote.  This 
chord  sounds  fa,  la,  and  do.  It  is  followed  by  the  chord 
of  the  dominant  or  the  seventh,  sol,  si,  re,  fa,  and  this,  in 
turn,  by  the  chord  of  the  tonic,  do,  mi,  sol.  In  the  key 
of  C  major,  these  chords  in  succession  would  be  repre- 
sented thus : 


-&• 


~zr 


F 


-^2- 


m 


Do     Re     Mi     Fa     Sol     La     Si     Do 


is: 


Sub-dominant.  Dominant.  Tonic.  -   ,      -         _,         _.         _,        «  •      — . 

Appropriate  Bass— Do    Sol    Do     Fa    Do     Fa    Sol    Do 

No.  41. 


REPRESENTA  TION  THROUGH  BLENDING  OF  PITCH.   285 

Notice,  now,  that  the  three  chords  together  sound 
every  note  of  the  scale.  They  are  comprehensive,  there- 
fore, of  all  the  effects  possible  to  it ;  and,  whenever  thus 
sounded  in  succession,  they  not  only  comprehend  these 
effects,  but,  in  a  peculiar  way,  blend  and  summarize  them 
so  as  to  produce  a  cumulative  climax. 

On  the  contrary,  in  the  degree  in  which  these  three 
chords,  in  the  order  indicated,  are  lacking,  in  that  degree 
is  the  cadence  incomplete.  Of  course,  it  is  most  incom- 
plete, or  rather  it  is  most  distant  from  being,  in  any  sense, 
a  climax,  when  the  concluding  chord  itself  is  that  of  the 
seventh,  or  one  that  suggests  the  combinations  entering 
into  this.  Nothing,  except  the  still  more  discordant 
chord  of  the  ninth,  which  is  used  occasionally,  can  pos- 
sibly be  so  representative  of  that  which  leaves  the  mind 
unsatisfied,  because  in  complete  suspense.  Even  when, 
in  other  respects,  the  whole 
cadence  is  complete,  but  the 
final  chord  is  minor  instead  of 
major,  the  effect  is  still  of  a  < 
nature  fitted  to  convey  this 
impression.     Notice  42. 


aizz|_ga^i: 


(§1 


The  Scientific  reason  for  this  Sub-dominant.  Dominant.  Tonic. 

effect  is  undoubtedly  the  fact,  No-  42- 

which  will  be  found  explained  in  Chapter  XV.  of 
"  Rhythm  and  Harmony  in  Poetry  and  Music,"  that  the 
notes  of  the  major  chord  are  the  same  as  the  most 
prominent  partial  tones  which  can  be  detected  by  reso- 
nators as  actually  entering  into  the  composition  of  its 
fundamental  bass  note ;  whereas,  the  note  that  changes 
this  chord  to  a  minor  is  only  a  partial  tone  of  one  partial 
tone  of  this  bass.  The  major,  therefore,  is  the  only  chord 
expressive  of  absolute  unity  or,  what  is  the  same  thing, 
of    absolute   harmony  as   applied   to    musical    relations. 


286  MUSIC  AS  A   REPRESENTATIVE  ART. 

In  elocution,  the  harmonic  cadence  in  connection  with 
the  upward  inflection  represents  hopeful  and  joyous,  be- 
cause absolutely  satisfactory  anticipation,  or,  as  the  case 
may  be,  indecision,  subordination,  insignificance,  trite- 
ness, negation,  or  questionableness  ;  and,  on  the  other 
hand,  the  inharmonic  upward  cadence  represents  antici- 
pation in  suspense,  insolvable  indecision,  despairing  sub- 
ordination or  insignificance,  negation  with  no  prospect  of 
affirmation,  questioning  with  no  expectation  of  response. 
According  to  the  same  analogy,  the  harmonic  downward 
cadence  represents  conclusiveness,  decision,  interest,  im- 
portance, affirmation,  positiveness  of  the  most  satisfactory 
character  possible  ;  and  the  inharmonic  cadence  represents 
the  same,  but  of  a  character  decidedly  unsatisfactory. 

The  same  principles  will  be  found  to  apply  to  the  com- 
plete cadence  in  musical  harmony.  Notice  the  suggestion 
of  satisfaction  in  the  upward  melody  of  what  is  called  the 
"  Motive  of  the  Rhine- 
gold,"  in  Wagner's  opera 
of  that  name  (43) :  And 
the  same  suggestion,  joined  No.  43. 

with  a  slight  hint  of  something  more  to  come,  because  not 
ending  on  the  keynote,  in  the  "  Sword  Motive  "  (44)  : 

Also  in  the  rich  succes- 


|ji^  1  r-^UT^I 


i 


:^=  r?         I       S  —\ .   P    J  ^  A  sion   of   chords,   scarcely 
-#-••  one  of  which  need  be  re- 


No.  44.  solved,  in  the  "  Motive  of 

the  Ring,"  in  the  same  opera  (45) : 


ilU— M£ 


*F=* 


As  well  as  in 
the  motive  of 
"Alberich's  Tri- 
umphal Cry,"  re- 
°*  45'  solvingitself  into 

the  F  major  in  the  following  (46) : 


p 


REPRESENTA  TION  THROUGH  BLENDING  OF  PITCH.   287 


te 


*y 


r-+*& 


I 


^^^^^p 


OIF 


w- 


No.  46. 

On  the  contrary,  notice  now  the  unsatisfactory  effect, — 
because  of  the  future  danger 
suggested — in  what  is  called 
the  "  Motive  of  Menace  (47) 
as  uttered  by  Alberich  in  the 
same  opera.     Even  the  "  Mo- 


#^ 


No.  47. 


tive  of  the  Sword's  Guardian  "  (48),  in  the  "  Walkure,"  is 
not  wholly  satisfactory,  in  the  sense  that  it  suggests  more 

to  come : 

.  And     the     same 

-•-  -#-  -»->    i~  "ig"'.j#"r~     1S  true  °*  ™e 

*"^  I  blended  effect  in 

'  "  Siegfried,"     of 

what    is    termed 


m 


No.  48. 
the  ''World's  Heritage  Motive"  (49): 


$ 


j 


$?=*~- 


rfTfgf 


A 


ftrmttrr 


#w 


! 

No.  49. 


BE 


te 


P 


-*>■ '/j 


With  the  effect  of  the  complete  harmonic  cadence  in  con- 
nection with  the  downward 
movement  we  are  so  fa- 
miliar that  it  hardly  needs 
illustrating.  Here  is  an  in-  { 
stance  of  it  as  applied  to 
both  melody  and  harmony 

(50): 

Here  is  one  of  Wagner's 


1 


FP^F 


No.  50. 


288 


MUSIC  AS  A   REPRESENTATIVE  ART. 


downward  melodies,  suggesting  quite  an  unsatisfactory 
conclusion.  It  is  the  "  Motive  of  the  Right  of  Expia- 
tion," in  the  "  Gotterdammerung  "  (51)  : 


ms 


£ 


8^- 


*E 


B 


^m> 


m 


Bricht    ein  Bru  -  der  den  Bund,  triigt   den  Treu  -  en  der  Freund. 
No.  51. 
And  here  is  the  same  effect  ,       .  . 

in  harmony  in  the  "  Motive  g4  -gf  "*V 

of   the  Vindictive   League,"  [fe:    y  bJ    j£ 
in  the  same  opera  (52) : 
Also  in  the   melody  of  the 
"Motive  of  Murder"  (53): 


¥^f  £  r 


ip- 


m 


ff  fer 


No.  53 

ing    the     crafty     and     anxious 
thought    of     Alberich     in    the 
"  Rhinegold  "  (54)  : 
And  in  this  "  Motive  of  Sieg- 


No.  52. 

Another     similar 
effect  is  apparent 
I      J  *  tTT^i  in    the   "  Motive 
>-■■=   '    ^  of      Thoughtful- 
ness,"    represent- 


fezd* 


M: 


3g: 


'^m 


w 


No.  54. 

fried,  the  Guardian  of  the  World's  Welfare"  (55),  the 
end  is  suggestively  unsatisfactory  in  the  sense  of  indicating 
more  that  needs  to  be  achieved  : 


£ 


t- 


M 


n 


s 


No.  55. 


REPRESENTA  TION  THROUGH  BLENDING  OF  PITCH.   289 


Wagner  seems  to  be  exceedingly  fond  of  ending  an  up- 
ward movement  that  is  expressive,  as  all  such  movements 
are,  of  anticipation,  indecision,  or  questioning,  with  a 
downward  movement,  containing  a  minor  cadence,  or,  as 
often,  an  unresolved  seventh.  This  downward  move- 
ment, inasmuch  as  it  is  supposed  to  contain  the  conclu- 
sion or  answer  to  the  upward  movement  (see  music 
numbered  26,  27,  28,  29,  on  pages  271-2),  suggests,  in  such 
cases,  that  there  is  no  satisfactory  conclusion,  decision, 
or  answer  to  the  feeling  em- 
bodied in  the  preceding  up- 


fP 


-*4>- 


m 


t=4 


rWH 


ward  movement.    Hence,  the 
arrangement  of  tones  repre- 
sents the  extreme  of  disap-  No-  56- 
pointment.     Here   is  an  instance  of   this  effect  in   one 
of  the  chief  motives  in  "  Tristan  und  Isolde  "  (56).     And 
here  is  the  expression  of  Sieglinde's  compassionate  yearn- 
ing for  Siegfried  in  the  "  Walkiire  "  (57). 


P 


P=SF 


£5 


|HMUi    'I     ii^ 


rntibi 


No.  57. 

This  is  what,  in  the  same  opera,  is  a  symbol  of  the  "  Wal- 
sungen  Family  in  its  Love  and  Pain  "  (58)  : 


m 


zs: 


&-^ — »-"--<St 


m 


i2^_=pz^: 


^ 


No.  58. 

And  this  of  the  heroism  of   the   same  family  in  suffer- 
ing (59)  = 
19 


29O  MUSIC  AS  A   REPRESENTATIVE  ART. 


i=£ 


1 


1 


m 


BE 


PLjl         I'BEj 


UIHW 


B 


^~nn^ 


1-1;      J       J  Kg  ==g::^=fc 


"J 


t=fi* 


» 


as 


v 


No.  59. 

And  here   is  the  "  Phrase  of  Nothung,"  in  the  "  Sieg- 
fried  "(60): 


^^ 


±=LL 


m 


&-± 


-&- 


Nothung!        tr.  Neidlicbes  schwertf 

No.  60. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

REPRESENTATION  THROUGH  MUSICAL  QUALITY. 

How  Musical  Quality  is  Determined — How  Determined  in  the  Human 
Voice — What  Different  Qualities  of  the  Voice  Represent — Their  Cor- 
respondences in  Nature — Analogies  between  Quality  as  Used  in  Elocu- 
tion and  in  Music — Representation  by  Way  of  Association  through  the 
Use  of  Different  Musical  Instruments — The  Same  Continued — Repre- 
sentation through  these  by  Way  of  Imitation — Other  Examples. 

QUALITY,  timbre,  or,  as  it  is  sometimes  called  on 
account  of  that  to  which  it  corresponds  in  painting, 
tone-color,  is  determined  by  the  elements  of  which  a  tone 
is  compounded.  This  is  not  the  place  in  which  to  detail 
the  various  experiments  through  which  this  fact  has  been 
ascertained.  It  will  suffice  to  say  that,  among  other 
methods,  through  the  use  of  resonators  so  constructed  as 
to  enable  one  to  detect  the  presence  in  a  tone  of  any  par- 
ticular pitch,  it  has  been  fully  proved  that  when  a  string 
like  that  of  a  bass  viol  is  struck,  it  produces  a  note — say 
that  of  the  bass  C — representing  a  sound-wave  caused  by 
the  whole  length  of  the  string.  This  C  is  the  main,  or  as 
it  is  termed,  the  prime  tone  that  we  hear.  But,  at  the 
same  time,  this  same  string  usually  divides  at  the  middle, 
producing  what  is  called  a  partial  tone  of  the  C  above  the 
bass,  caused  by  a  wave  one  half  the  length  of  the  string. 
It  often  produces,  too,  partial  tones  of  the  G  above  this, 
of  the  C  above  this,  and  of  the  E  above  this,  caused  re- 
spectively by  sound-waves  of  one  third,  one  fourth,  and 

291 


292 


MUSIC  AS  A   REPRESENTATIVE  ART, 


one  fifth  of  the  length  of  the  string.  The  tones  of  this 
character  which,  in  different  instruments,  have  been  de- 
tected as  entering  into  the  composition  of  C,  F,  and  G, 
are  as  follows,  those  nearest  the  bass  being  heard,  of  course, 
much  the  more  prominently  and  commonly.  This  music 
is  taken  from  page  248  of  "  The  Genesis  of  Art-Form." 


„d"e" 


P 


C  e' 


mm 


f  a'  C  efr  *"?'i 


em 


ps 


c 


S 


$ 


Partial  tones  of  C. 


g'b' 


d'  f 


Id 


m 


Of  G. 


No.  61. 


T5 

F 

OfF. 

It  is  the  presence  of 
partial  tones  of  such  pitch 
as  to  form  harmonics  with 
the  prime  tone,  that  causes 
a  sound  to  be  musical ; 
and  it  is  the  prominence 
of  different  partial  tones 
in  notes  differently  pro- 
duced   that    causes    these 


notes  to  differ  in  quality. 

In  human  utterance,  the  possible  varieties  of  quality  are 
determined  by  the  relative  proportions  in  which  noise 
and  music — sometimes,  as  we  might  say,  breath  and  vocal- 
ization— are  combined  as  a  result  of  natural  or  assumed 
shapes  or  actions  of  the  vocal  organs  and  passages.  What 
different  kinds  of  quality  thus  produced  are  fitted  to 
represent,  it  needs  but  little  observation  to  discover.     It 


REPRESENTATION  THROUGH  MUSICAL  QUALITY.      293 

certainly  is  not,  as  in  the  case  of  force,  physical  energy. 
When  Patti  passes  from  a  loud  to  a  soft,  or  from  an 
abrupt  to  a  smooth  tone,  she  changes  greatly  the  kind  of 
energy,  but  her  voice  still  retains  the  same  Patti-quality. 
Nor  does  quality  represent  mere  intellectuality.  A  man, 
without  changing  in  the  least  an  habitual  nasal  or  wheez- 
ing quality,  may  give  every  inflection  needed  in  order  to 
represent  the  merely  mental  phases  of  the  motive  that 
actuates  him.  But  if  we  frighten  him  severely,  we  may 
make  it  impossible  for  him  to  use  any  other  sound  than 
a  whisper ;  if,  in  connection  with  this,  we  anger  him,  he 
will  hiss ;  or,  if  at  length  he  recover  his  voice,  he  will  use 
the  harsh,  jarring,  interrupted  hard-^*  quality  of  tone, 
termed  the  guttural ;  or,  if  that  which  he  would  repel  be 
too  great  to  make  anger  appropriate,  it  may  widen  and 
stiffen  his  throat  so  as  to  produce  the  hollow,  almost  in- 
articulate indication  of  awe  and  horror  given  by  what  is 
termed  the  pectoral  quality.  Release  him  now  from  the 
influence  of  fright,  anger,  or  horror,  and  put  him  into  a 
gently  satisfied  mood,  and  he  will  use  his  nearest  approach 
to  pure  quality.  Stir  him  then  to  profound  emotion, 
inspired  by  what  is  deeply  satisfying,  and  all  his  vocal 
passages  will  expand  again,  and  he  will  produce  his 
nearest  approach  to  the  full,  round,  resonant  quality 
termed  orotund. 

For  these  reasons,  it  seems  indisputable  that,  as  applied 
to  vocal  expression,  quality  represents  feeling,  temper, 
the  spiritual  condition  of  the  higher  emotive  nature.  This 
feeling,  on  its  physical  side  and  with  its  most  physical 
coloring,  gives  us,  first,  the  serpent-like  hissing  aspirate  ; 
next,  with  an  intellectual  coloring,  the  guttural  quality  ; 
and  last,  with  an  emotional  coloring,  the  pectoral.  On  its 
intellectual  side,  it  gives  us,  first,  with  a  physical  coloring, 


294  MUSIC  AS  A   REPRESENTATIVE  ART. 

the  soft  whispering  aspirate ;  next,  with  an  intellectual 
coloring,  the  pure  quality ;  and  last,  with  an  emotional 
coloring,  the  orotund.  Of  these  six  forms  of  quality,  the 
first  four  are  classed  in  a  general  way  as  impure,  because 
there  is  in  them  more  breath  or  noise  than  vocal  tone  or 
music ;  and  the  last  two  are  classed  as  pure.  The  first 
three  again  refer  to  what  one  wishes  to  repel ;  the  hissing 
aspirate  indicating  feelings  like  affright,  amazement,  in- 
dignation and  contempt ;  the  guttural,  as  has  been  said, 
hostility ;  the  pectoral,  awe  or  horror.  The  last  three 
refer  to  what,  if  not  wholly  satisfactory,  at  least,  excites 
in  one  no  movement  aimed  against  it.  The  soft  whisper 
indicates  feelings  like  surprise,  interest,  or  solicitude ;  the 
tone  termed  distinctively  the  pure,  represents  gentle  con- 
templation of  what  may  be  either  joyous  or  sad  ;  and  the 
orotund,  deep  delight,  admiration,  courage,  or  deter- 
minate, as  inspired  by  contemplation  of  the  noble  or 
grand. 

As  in  the  cases  of  duration,  force,  and  pitch,  so  all  these 
forms  of  quality,  too,  have  their  correspondences  in  effects 
of  nature  as  manifested  in  other  departments.  Applied 
to  effects  of  water,  for  instance,  a  rushing  stream  would 
represent  the  harsh  aspirate,  a  rocky  stream  the  guttural, 
a  roiled  stream  the  pectoral,  a  rippling  stream  the  gentle 
aspirate,  a  clear  stream  the  pure,  and  a  full,  deep  stream 
the  orotund. 

That  analogies  exist  between  quality  as  used  in  elocu- 
tion and  in  music,  scarcely  needs  to  be  argued.  As 
produced  by  the  human  voice,  there  can  be  no  radical 
differences  between  possibilities  in  speaking  and  in  sing- 
ing ;  and,  as  produced  by  constructed  musical  instruments, 
it  is  inevitable  that  the  mind  should  associate  with  each 
certain  representative  features,  and  should  determine  them 


REPRESENTATION  THROUGH  MUSICAL  QUALITY.      295 

by  the  resemblance,  or  supposed  resemblance,  of  their 
artificial  tones  to  the  quality  of  some  tone  natural  to  the 
human  voice,  or  else  produced  in  some  other  way  in  nature. 
In  determining  these  resemblances,  too,  one  would  be 
influenced,  of  course,  by  the  uses  which  as  a  rule,  are 
made  of  the  particular  instruments  which  he  is  hearing. 
It  is  undoubtedly  owing  to  associations  of  this  kind  that 
we  read  of  the  stirring  tones  of  the  fife  and  drum,  the 
solemn  tones  of  the  organ,  the  purity  and  softness  of  the 
flute,  the  gayety  and  triumph  of  the  trumpet,  the  woe  and 
complaint  of  the  bassoon,  the  pathos  and  humaneness  of 
the  violin. 

These  differences  between  the  representative  qualities 
of  different  musical  instruments  depend  partly  upon  what 
their  sounds  are  in  themselves,  and  partly  upon  the  way 
in  which  they  are  produced — a  violin,  for  instance,  being 
played  sometimes  with  a  bow  and  sometimes  with  the 
finger.  But  that  the  differences  exist,  and  that  they  are 
representative,  is  almost  universally  recognized  by  both 
composers  and  audiences.  When,  for  instance,  in  listen- 
ing to  an  opera,  we  hear  predominantly  the  clash  of  the 
cymbals  or  rattle  of  the  kettle-drums,  associated,  as  these 
usually  are,  with  the  sharper  tones  of  the  metallic  instru- 
ments, we  know  that  the  sounds,  as  in  the  last  act  of 
Mozart's  "  Don  Juan,"  where  hell  is  supposed  to  await 
the  hero,  represent,  according  to  the  degrees  of  their  in- 
tensity, not  only  the  startling,  but  the  hostile  and  mena- 
cing effects  which,  in  the  human  voice,  we  associate  with 
guttural  quality.  If  any  action  of  the  play  must  follow 
what  we  hear,  we  expect  to  see  some  violent  conflict  full 
of  malignity  and  peril.  When  the  predominating  sounds 
are  those  of  the  bass  drums  and  the  lower,  more  hollow 
tones  of  either  the  wind  or  the  stringed  instruments,  we 


296 


MUSIC  AS  A   REPRESENTATIVE  ART. 


know  that,  as  in  the  orchestration  which  in  Wagner's 
"  Siegfried  "  accompanies  the  hero's  encounter  with  the 
dragon,  they  represent  the  presence  of  that  which  inspires 
to  awe  and  horror  such  as,  in  the  human  voice,  we  asso- 
ciate with  the  pectoral  quality.  The  resemblance  to  this 
tone  in  its  milder  forms  is  undoubtedly  that  which  imparts 
a  solemn  effect  to  the  music  of  the  church  organ.  When, 
again,  the  predominating  sounds  are  those  of  the  wood 
instruments — the  clarinet,  the  flute,  even,  to  some  extent, 
the  organ — we  feel  that  these  represent  the  gentle,  pas- 
sive contemplation,  sad  or  joyous,  which,  in  elocution, 
is  indicated  by  pure  quality.  We  can  confirm  this  by 
recalling  the  effects  of  the  Shepherd  music  in  Rossini's 
"  William  Tell,"  or  in  Wagner's  "  Tristan  und  Isolde," 
e.g.: 


I 


ft 


$=z 


S 


32^3 


t==? 


S 


m 


p 


f 


8 


m 


JSt 


■w- 


m 


EBB 


p  • 


No.  62. 


When,  instead  of  the  wooden  wind  instruments,  we  hear 
the  metallic,  either  as  in  the  organ  or  in  trumpets  and 
instruments  of  similar  character,  we  feel  that  these  repre- 
sent the  more  profound  emotions,  the  admiration,  enthu- 
siasm, courage,  determination,  that  we  are  accustomed  to 
associate  with  elocutionary  orotund  quality.  To  such 
music  we  expect  to  see  troops  march  on  to  the  stage,  as 
in  the  Soldiers'  Chorus  in  Gounod's  "  Faust,"  giving  vent 
to  their  confidence  in   anticipation  of  victory,  or  to  their 


REPRESENTATION  THROUGH  MUSICAL  QUALITY.      297 

joy  in  view  of  its  accomplishment.  Once  more,  when  we 
hear  the  stringed  instruments  we  recognize  that  it  is  their 
peculiar  function  to  impart  intensity  of  feeling,  just  as  is 
true  of  the  elocutionary  aspirated  quality.  Hence,  the 
reason  for  the  use  of  the  violins  in  that  scene  in  Wagner's 
"  Meistersinger  "  which  takes  place  in  the  house  of  Hans 
Sachs  ;  or  in  the  Venus  music  of  his  "  Tannhaiiser  "  ;  or 
in  the  waltz  music  of  Gounod's  "  Faust."  Just  as  in  the 
case  of  the  elocutionary  aspirate,  too,  so  here  the  effects  of 
these  stringed  instruments  may  partake  of  those  of  any  of 
the  other  instruments.  Not  only  when  associated,  as  in 
orchestral  music,  with  the  instruments  that  have  been 
mentioned,  but  even  when  not  associated  with  these,  the 
sharper  tones  of  the  strings  suggest  the  aspirated  guttural, 
their  lower  hollow  tones  the  aspirated  pectoral,  their 
struck  tones,  as  in  the  piano,  the  guitar,  and  the  harp,  the 
aspirated  pure,  and  their  tones  as  produced  by  the  bow, 
the  aspirated  orotund. 

After  what  has  been  said,  it  is  scarcely  necessary  to  add 
that,  as  in  the  cases  of  duration,  force,  and  pitch,  all  of 
these  suggestions  of  quality  may  be  produced  not  only  in- 
directly by  way  of  association,  but  directly  also,  by  way  of 
comparison,  or,  in  other  words,  through  effects  purely  imi- 
tative. All  of  us  have  heard  representations  of  battles  and 
thunder-storms  made  such  through  using  drums  and  cym- 
bals, of  birds  through  using  flutes,  and  of  sleigh-rides 
through  the  tinkling  of  bells  and  the  cracking  of  whips. 
But,  possibly,  we  do  not  all  realize  that  such  forms  of 
imitation  are  not  confined,  as  is  sometimes  supposed,  to 
works  of  a  low  order  of  merit.  For  instance,  in  Wagner's 
"Walktire,"  to  quote  from  Hans  von  Wolzogen  :  "The 
wind  blows,  the  thunder  rolls,  lightning  flashes  in  the 
rising  and   falling  sway  of  the  orchestra  and   the  stroke 


298 


MUSIC  AS  A   REPRESENTATIVE  ART. 


of    the   weather-god's    hammer    in  the   '  Motive    of   the 
Storm ' "  (63). 


&>!  i  J  JjUiJ  iUi  =  ii\ 


No.  63. 

Notice,  too,  the  following  from  "  O  ruddier  than  a 
cherry,"  in  Handel's  "  Galatea,"  as  given  in  Gurney's 
"  Power  of  Sound  "  Chapter  XX. : 


<y 


t 


feBrErHfrfcS 


Yet  hard  to  tame  as  raging  flame,  And  fierce  as  storms  that  bluster. 
No.  64. 

Also,  as  given  in  the  same,  this  distinctively  pectoral 
effect  from  Handel's  "  Envy,  eldest  born  of  hell  "  (65)  : 


teg 


tt 


W3fc=±*Bi    m  I    A       J  . — J- 


^HLjl-i 


$=*=* 


3=* 


m 


Hide  thee  in    the   black 


est  night!  Vir  -  tue 


te 


p^l 


m^rr*-^ 


E 


IF^ 


1      fc  1 


sick  -  en3  at  thy     sight,  Vir  -  tue  sick-ens    at      thy  sight. 

I         !    !      I  K 


J 


r=nu  iiiji 


No.  65. 


1  j 


REPRESENTATION  THROUGH  MUSICAL  QUALITY.      299 

So,  too,  in  the  works  of  Hadyn,  there  are  many  pas- 
sages evidently  intended  to  be  imitative  in  quality, 
noticeably  in  the  accompaniments  of  his  oratorios,  as,  for 
instance,  in  the  representation,  through  the  use  of  the 
bassoons,  of  the  tread  of  the  elephant  accompanying,  in 
"The  Creation,"  the  words,  "  By  heavy  beasts  the  ground 
is  trod  "  ;  and  of  thunder  through  the  use  of  drums  ac- 
companying those  in  "  Judah,"  "  The  rolling  thunder  He 
cast  on  all "  ;  and  also  the  roaring  of  a  storm  in  the  chorus 
in  the  same  oratorio,  "The  Lord  devoureth  them  all." 
Recall,  too,  the  use  of  pure  quality  in  the  representation 
of  the  song  of  the  bird  in  Wagner's  "  Siegfried  "  (66) : 


g^N 


(b). 


s 


$ 


«  w  g  •    f 

mi     I  l 


(d) 


SB 


I 


fcSg — i—^-»  T  la~r?~g 


53 


m 


n*uj  1 1 


p^es 


No.  66, 


There  is  no  doubt,  too,  that  the  effects  produced  by 
the  violins  in  the  forest  music  preceding  this  song  of  the 
bird,  as  well  as  in  the  pastoral  symphonies  of  Handel  and 
of  Beethoven,  are  intended  to  imitate,  as  heard  in  the 
warmth  of  a  summer's  day  and  stirred  by  a  gentle  breeze, 
the  rustling  of  leaves  and  the  buzz  and  soft  hum  of  in- 
sects ;  in  fact,  the  same  as  is  imitated  in  another  art  by 
Tennyson,  when  in  "  The  Princess,"  he  speaks  of 


300  MUSIC  AS  A   REPRESENTATIVE  ART. 

11  The  moan  of  doves  in  immemorial  elms, 
And  murmuring  of  innumerable  bees. " 

So,  also,  the  distinctive  qualities  of  the  human  voice 
are  sometimes  imitated.  What  could  illustrate  this  fact 
better  than  the  Wailing  Chorus,  or  the  song  about 
"  Troubled  Sleep  "  in  Sullivan's  "  Iolanthe  "  ? 


CHAPTER  VII. 

MUSICAL     REPRESENTATION      IN     SERIES     OF     PASSAGES 
WHEN   NOT   IMITATIVE. 

Series  of  Passages  as  Representative — By  Way  of  Association  as  in  Dis- 
coursive  Elocution — As  Illustrated  by  Haweis — By  J.  D.  Rogers — 
Schumann's  "In  der  Nacht" — Brahme's  German  Requiem — B.  I. 
Gilman's  Experiment — Explanation — Recorded  Result — Deduction  to 
be  Drawn  from  these  Quotations :  In  what  Sense  they  Indicate  that 
Music  is  Representative — Quotation  from  J.  S.  Dwight  Interpreting  the 
most  Important  of  the  Forms  of  Musical  Composition — Program  Music — 
Its  Appropriate  Use. 

A  S  suggested  by  many  of  the  examples  of  music  con- 
*^  tained  in  Chapter  VI.,  as  well  as  by  others  pre- 
ceding them,  it  cannot  fail  to  be  observed  that  almost 
all  forms  of  musical  representation,  whether  associative  or 
imitative,  involve  the  use  not  of  one  element  alone,  be  it 
duration,  force,  pitch,  or  quality,  but  of  a  combination  of  all 
four.  Indeed,  even  when  single  phrases  are  representative 
in  only  a  single  element,  it  is  impossible  to  blend  them 
with  others  preceding  or  following  them  without  suggest- 
ing representation  in  all  the  elements.  This  fact  renders 
it  necessary,  before  our  discussion  is  complete,  to  consider 
the  representative  character  of  music  as  manifested  not 
only  in  single  phrases  but  in  series  of  them. 

Following  the  same  order  of  thought  that  has  been 
pursued  hitherto,  let  us  consider  the  development  of 
series  of  phrases  in  accordance,  first,  with  the  methods 
analogous  to  those  giving  instinctive  and  ejaculatory  ex- 

301 


302  MUSIC  AS  A   REPRESENTATIVE  ART. 

pression  to  internal  moods  by  way  of  association,  in 
what  was  termed  in  Chapter  II.  discoursive  elocution,  and 
second,  with  the  methods  analogous  to  those  giving  re- 
flective and  imitative  reproductions  of  audible  effects  of 
nature,  in  what  was  termed  dramatic  elocution. 

Perhaps  there  could  be  no  better  way  of  illustrating 
how  series  of  representative  phrases  can  be  made  to  repre- 
sent series  of  consecutive  emotions,  in  accordance  with 
the  analogies  of  discoursive  elocution,  as  these  have  been 
explained  under  each  head  of  duration,  force,  pitch,  and 
quality,  than  by  introducing  here  a  quotation  from  the 
"Music  and  Morals"  of  H.  R.  Haweis.  It  will  be 
noticed  that  each  of  these  elements  is  mentioned  by  him, 
though  in  a  different  order  from  that  in  which  they  have 
been  treated  here.  The  quotation  is  all  the  more  apt, 
too,  inasmuch  as,  in  the  place  in  which  it  is  found,  it  is 
not  directly  intended  to  sustain  the  principles  now  under 
consideration. 

1 '  (i)  Elation  and  Depression.  When  a  man  is  suffering  intense  thirst 
in  a  sandy  desert,  the  emotional  font  within  him  is  at  a  low  ebb  [this  is 
represented  by  low  pitch]  ;  but  on  catching  sight  of  a  pool  of  water  not  far 
off,  he  instantly  becomes  highly  elated,  and  forgetting  his  fatigue,  he  hastens 
forward  upon  a  new  plane  of  feeling  [high  pitch].  On  arriving  at  the  water 
he  finds  it  too  salt  to  drink,  and  his  emotion,  from  the  highest  elation,  sinks 
at  once  to  the  deepest  depression  [very  low  pitch].  (2)  Velocity  " — what  has 
here  been  termed  time — .  ' '  At  this  crisis  our  traveller  sees  a  man  with  a  water- 
skin  coming  toward  him,  and  his  hopes  instantly  rise  [high  pitch],  and  run- 
ning up  to  him  he  relates  how  his  hopes  have  been  suddenly  raised  and  as 
suddenly  cast  down  [high  and  low  pitch  again]  ;  but  long  before  he 
has  expressed  or  even  begun  to  express  his  meaning,  he  has,  in  a 
moment  of  time,  in  fact,  spontaneously,  with  the  utmost  mental  velocity, 
repassed  through  the  emotions  of  elation  and  depression  which  may  at  first 
have  lasted  some  time,  but  are  now  traversed  in  one  sudden  flash  of  reflex 
consciousness.  (3)  Intensity  " — what  has  here  been  termed  force — .  "Ashe 
drinks  the  sparkling  water,  we  may  safely  affirm  that  his  emotion  increases  in 
intensity  up  to  the  point  where  his  thirst  becomes  quenched,  and  that  every 


REPRESENTATION    WHEN  ASSOCIATIVE.  303 

drop  that  he  takes  after  that  is  accompanied  by  less  and  less  pungent  or  intense 
feeling.  (4)  Variety  "  — including  also  what  has  here  been  termed  quality. — 
"  Up  to  this  time,  his  emotion  has  been  comparatively  simple  ;  but  a  suffering 
companion  now  arrives,  and  as  he  hands  to  him  the  grateful  cup  his  emotion 
becomes  complex,  that  is  to  say,  he  experiences  a  variety  of  emotions  simul- 
taneously. First,  the  emotion  of  contentment  at  having  quenched  his  own 
thirst  ;  second,  gratitude  to  the  man  who  supplied  him  with  water  ;  .  .  . 
third,  joy  at  seeing  his  friend  participating  in  his  own  relief.  (5)  Form.  If 
the  reader  will  now  glance  over  this  simple  narrative  ...  he  will  see 
that  both  the  simple  and  the  complex  emotions  above  described  have  what, 
for  want  of  abetter  term,  we  may  call  form  ;  i.  <r.,  they  succeed  each  other 
in  one  order  rather  than  in  another,  and  are  at  length  combined  with  a 
definite  purpose  in  certain  fixed  proportions." 

A  similar  conception  with  reference  to  the  general 
analogy  of  series  of  musical  effects  to  series  of  events,  as 
we  are  accustomed  to  see  them  unfold  not  in  one  but  in 
many  different  departments  of  nature,  is  brought  out  in 
the  Appendix  II.  of  Bernard  Bosanquet's  "  History  of 
^Esthetic."     The  author  says  : 

"The  following  notes  have  been  furnished  me  by  Mr.  J.  D.  Rogers. 
.  .  .  They  appear  admirably  to  illustrate  the  conception  of  music,  as  the 
spirit  of  actions  and  events,  suggested  by  Plato  and  Aristotle,  and  in  modern 
times  popularized  by  Schopenhauer  : 

"  1.  Schumann's  '  In  der  Nacht '  used  to  summon  up  before  my  imagina- 
tion the  picture  of  the  moon  struggling  through  the  clouds  on  a  windy  night 
— emerging  and  disappearing  by  turns  ;  then  for  a  while  reigning  '  apparent 
queen '  amid  white  fleecy  clouds,  which  are  not  sufficient  to  intercept  its 
light.  During  two  moments  even  this  silken  veil  is  withdrawn,  only  to  be 
succeeded  by  a  bank  of  black  clouds,  for  a  long  time  impenetrable,  at  last 
penetrated  at  intervals  a  little  more  irregular  and  with  a  brightness  a  little 
wilder  and  more  meteoric  than  before  ;  finally — the  light  is  put  out  and 
quenched  by  the  storm. 

1 '  I  learnt  some  years  afterward  that  Schumann  also  associated  this  piece 
with  a  picture,  the  idea  of  which  occurred  to  him  after  he  had  written  the 
entire  set  of  '  Fantasiestiicke  '  to  which  it  belongs.  It  was  a  picture  por- 
traying the  story  of  Hero  and  Leander  ;  his  picture  is  not  incompatible  with 
mine.  In  his,  the  clouds  correspond  to  the  waves,  the  moon  to  a  swimmer, 
buried  and  stifled  in  their  troughs  or  flashing  and  calling  out  from  their 


304  MUSIC  AS  A   REPRESENTATIVE  ART. 

crests.  Where  the  moon  triumphs  in  my  story,  in  his  there  is  a  love  scene 
on  the  shore,  accompanied  by  the  distant  rippling  of  waves  ;  it  seems  almost 
as  though 

"  '  The  billows  of  cloud  that  around  thee  roll 
Shall  sleep  in  the  light  of  a  wondrous  day.' 

"  But  no  ;  there  comes  the  plunge  back  into  waves  blacker  than  before — 
tossings  to  and  fro — cries  from  the  swimmer  and  from  the  shore — and, 
finally,  'night  wraps  up  everything.'  The  music  can  be  rendered  after 
the  manner  of  Max  Miiller,  either  into  a  Lunar  myth  or  into  a  Greek 
legend.  What  the  moon  does,  and  what  the  Greek  hero  did  in  the 
story,  are  to  a  great  extent  the  same  ;  and  music  interprets  that  impor- 
tant element  or  attribute  which  is  common  to  both. 

"2.  If  music  seizes  hold  of  the  spirit  or  soul  of  any  event  or  series 
of  events,  has,  it  may  be  asked,  any  composer  attempted  to  represent 
God — God  in  the  sense  in  which  the  word  is  used  in  the  common  phrase, 
'  God  in  history,'  or  in  which  God  is  described  in  Tennyson's  '  Higher 
Pantheism,'  or  Wordsworth's  '  Tintern  Abbey'?  I  reply  by  an  instance, 
Brahms's  German  requiem  has  often  been  praised  for  the  rich  elabora- 
tion of  its  detail,  its  blending  of  the  antique  and  modern,  its  contra- 
puntal devices  fused  in  the  crucible  of  romanticism.  But  it  has  yet  finer 
and  deeper  merits.  The  solemn  opening,  '  Blessed  are  they  that  mourn,'  is 
set  to  the  same  music  as  the  solemn  close,  '  Blessed  are  the  dead.'  In 
the  middle  of  the  piece  the  name  of  God  is  introduced  for  the  first,  and  al- 
most the  last  time,  to  the  words,  '  The  souls  of  the  righteous  are  in  God's 
hand.'  That  name  is  translated  into  music  by  the  pedal  note,  which  is  held 
down  from  beginning  to  end  of  the  fugue  in  which  these  words  are  set.  The 
pedal  note  persists,  makes  its  presence  felt  throughout,  is  all-enduring,  all- 
pervading  ;  the  fugue  starts  from  it,  and  finally,  after  many  intricate  wander- 
ings, returns  to  it ;  it  is  the  fundamental  note — the  foundation  of  the  first 
and  last  chords,  and,  although  many  different,  and  apparently  incompatible, 
harmonies  are  found  in  the  course  of  the  fugue,  these  harmonies  are  all 
finally  resolved  into  the  initial  harmony,  of  which  that  pedal  note  is  at  once 
the  characteristic  note  and  the  epitome.  Everything  proceeds  from  it  and 
returns  to  it ;  it  alone  is  permanent,  and  steadily,  continuously,  irresistibly 
self-asserting.  Neither  poetry  nor  painting  nor  architecture  can  express 
mysteries  such  as  these  with  such  searching  force  and  directness." 

A  still  more  important  contribution  to  this  subject, 
justifying,  according  to  a  scientific  method,  these  views 
of  the  representative  character  of  the  effects  of  music,  is 


REPRESENTATION   WHEN  ASSOCIATIVE.  305 

made  by  Mr.  Benjamin  Ives  Gilman,  in  an  article  upon 
"  Musical  Expressiveness,"  published  in  the  "  American 
Journal  of  Psychology,"  and  also  in  "  Werner's  Maga- 
zine "  for  May,  1893.  Mr.  Gilman  states  that,  in  answer 
to  an  invitation  extended  by  him,  about  thirty  persons 
assembled  in  a  parlor  at  Cambridge,  Mass.,  their  object 
being  to  test  by  experiment  "  the  power  of  music  to 
awaken  definite  ideas  and  emotions  in  the  listener." 
What  follows  is  given  in  his  own  language. 

"The  instruments  used  were  a  grand  piano  and  the  violin.  The  inter- 
pretation of  the  program  was  intrusted  to  three  well-known  musicians,  Mr. 
Charles  L.  Capen,  Miss  E.  M.  Yerrington,  piano,  and  Mr.  A.  Van  Raalte, 
violin.  The  whole  company,  performers  and  audience,  began  the  evening 
in  a  very  skeptical  frame  of  mind  regarding  not  only  the  value  of  any  data 
which  might  be  obtained,  but  even  the  possibility  of  carrying  out  such  a  test. 
The  result  belied  our  forebodings.  The  method  of  inquiry  proved  a  prac- 
ticable one,  and  there  was,  I  think,  a  general  feeling  of  surprise  among  the 
listeners  at  the  amount  of  booty  rewarding  their  determined  efforts  to  cap- 
ture the  suggestions  of  the  music  played.  It  was  expected  that  several 
musicians  by  profession  would  be  among  their  number,  but  as  it  turned  out 
the  audience  consisted  entirely  of  amateurs.  A  large  minority,  if  not  a 
majority  of  these  were  without  special  skill  on  any  instrument ;  a  few  were 
distinctly  non-musical  in  the  sense  of  having  no  marked  endowment  of 
musical  ear  or  memory  ;  but  there  were  none  present,  I  think,  who  were  not 
capable,  at  least  at  times,  of  enjoying  and  feeling  music  deeply.  The  work 
of  the  evening  consisted  in  obtaining  answers  to  fourteen  questions  based 
upon  thirteen  selections  of  music,  one  being  the  subject  of  two  questions. 
Nearly  all  of  the  pieces  were  played  more  than  once,  some  of  them  several 
times,  and  although  they  succeeded  each  other  almost  without  intermission, 
except  for  putting  the  questions,  and  making  necessary  explanations,  the 
experiment  lasted  without  any  relaxation  in  the  interest  of  the  participants 
from  eight  o'clock  until  midnight.  Twenty-eight  note-books  were  the 
result,  sixteen  contributed  by  gentlemen  and  twelve  by  ladies." 

The  reader  will  get  a  general  conception  of  the  result 
of  these  experiments  from  two  questions,  together  with 
the  answers  to  them,  which,  on  account  of  their  import- 
ance, will  be  given  in  full.    The  gentlemen's  answers  from 


306  MUSIC  AS  A   REPRESENTATIVE  ART. 

A.  to  P.  are  given  first;  the  ladies  from  A.  to  L.  follow 

these. 

Question  I. 

Give  any  image  that  is  strikingly  suggested  to  your  mind  by  the  course  of 
the  following  piece. — Beethoven,  "  Piano-forte  Prelude  in  F.  Minor."  It 
bears  no  opus  number,  but  in  the  Brietkopf  &  Haertel  edition  of  Beethoven's 
works  is  No.  195  in  Series  18,  "  Kleinere  Stiicke  fur  das  Piano-forte." 
Piano  solo. 

To  the  writer  its  character  is  that  of  an  unending  contest  with  an  opposi- 
tion that  bars  every  advance.  It  is  an  attempt  to  hew  a  way  through  ada- 
mant. We  could  fancy  ourselves  listening  to  the  tireless  dialectic  of  a  mediae- 
val schoolman  on  some  transcendental  thesis,  or  even  admitted  to  the  mind 
of  a  melancholiac  eternally  resenting  miseries  eternally  visited  upon  him 
afresh.  Dry  and  gloomy  energy  doing  doughty  deeds  to  no  purpose  is  to 
me  the  burden  of  the  piece. 

Answers  to  I. 

A.  The  swaying  of  the  treetops  in  a  moderate  wind  ;  weird  songs  are 
sung  beneath  the  trees. 

B.  A  country  church  appeared  to  me  ;  the  music  formed  the  chimes  : 
the  surrounding  scenes  were  grave  or  gay  as  the  music  became  slow  and 
soft  or  fast  and  loud.     As  it  died  away  a  funeral  train  seemed  passing. 

C.  No  image.  Technique  (not  of  performance  but  of  composition) 
entirely  covers  up  the  aesthetic  effect.  I  cannot  help  being  lost  in  the 
sequence  of  the  strain,  especially  on  an  instrument  of  percussion  like  the 
piano. 

D.  At  first,  organist  seated  at  an  organ  in  church,  then  a  change  at  end 
to  twilight ;  a  large  hall  ;  a  man  who  has  felt  sorrow,  yet  feels  the  grandeur 
of  life  above  all,  improvises  ;  a  love  sadness. 

E.  Plunge  of  a  torrent  in  the  woods  ;  then  children's  feet  dancing  as 
the  key  changes  ;  sunburst.  Thenceforward  the  piece  gets  more  dramatic, 
forming  a  sort  of  tumultuous  dialogue  or  inward  dilemma  of  affirmation  and 
negation.  It  rolls  on  to  some  practical  moral  decision,  and  with  moments 
of  peace  or  weary  diversion  it  ends  in  a  sort  of  forgetting  calm  without  par- 
ticular triumph. 

F.  A  hymn  of  thankfulness. 

H.  Persistent  struggle  with  rather  mild  difficulty,  e.  g.,  walking  through 
a  wood  with  thick  underbrush. 

I.  Chime  of  church  bells  ;  bright,  sunny  morning  ;  gathering  to  church  ; 
in  church  ;  entry  of  minister  ;  hushed  ;  minister  rises  ;  ready  for  service  ;  last 
stroke  of  chimes. 


REPRESENTATION    WHEN  ASSOCIATIVE.  307 

J.  The  rolling  up  of  breaker  after  breaker  on  the  beach  with  the  sound 
of  more  distant  rollers  in  the  lulls  ;  or  the  dying  away  of  a  storm. 

K.  This  is  a  fugue.  Fugues  always  suggest  to  me  the  beauty  of  organ- 
ism, the  universal  not  being  built  out  of  an  accretion  of  particulars  but  re- 
vealing itself  in  subtle  relations  among  them  ;  the  complexity  of  law  ;  the 
essentialness  of  sadness  to  happiness. 

L.  A  great  strife  against  something  ;  a  final  conquering  of  this  some- 
thing, and  then  rest.  This  strife  seems  to  return  at  times  and  is  then 
quieted  ;  finally,  near  the  end  a  burst  of  it,  and  then  the  quiet  closing 
bars. 

M.  Suggests  a  life  toiling  on  through  disappointment  and  struggle, 
until  at  last  peace  comes,  a  peace  of  which  there  had  been  moments  of  an- 
ticipation.    Not  a  brilliant  idea  nor  a  prominent  life. 

N.  The  resolute  self-possession  of  the  process  that,  going  on,  suggests 
at  once  something  very  much  alive,  very  free — a  nature-force  in  full  posses- 
sion of  its  own  world  :  "  Sie  entlasst  sick  fret,  ihrer  selbst  ganz  sicker"  says 
Hegel  of  the  Idee,  when  it  passes  over  into  Natur.  I  have  a  sense  that  a 
water-process  would  be  the  scene  most  naturally  suggested.  Scene,  how- 
ever, not  complete,  but  waves  on  water  most  probable. 

O.  A  rather  distinct  idea  of  a  workman  making  something  by  strokes,  as 
a  smith.  There  is  also  a  feeling  that  he  is  in  a  lazy  mood,  as  if  the  afternoon 
sun  was  streaming  in.     The  work  is  pleasant. 

P.  Church  ;  opening  voluntary.  Religious  cheerfulness.  A  religious 
dance  ;  measured  movement  of  hands.  Or,  somewhat,  a  brook  tumbling 
along  over  a  stony  bed.     The  suggestion  of  a  yearning. 

A.     (Bach).     A  ship  approaching  end  of  voyage  :  all  tension  :  haven. 

C.  It  (the  piece)  seemed  to  me  to  embody  the  progress  of  a  mountain 
stream  on  its  course  from  the  hills  to  the  plain,  flowing  among  rocks  over 
many  obstacles,  under  the  forest  trees,  with  the  quiet  and  deep  repose  of  the 
wild  wood  pervading  all.  This  was  the  only  image  that  occurred  to  me. 
The  intensity  of  the  stillness  of  the  wood  was  most  prominent. 

D.  Persistent  effort,  resulting  in  serene  progress. 

E.  A  perpetually  struggling  bird,  flying  up  and  beaten  back  by  the 
wind. 

F.  Beating  of  the  waves  upon  the  rocks  in  the  receding  tide. 

G.  Storm  wind ;  agitated  sea  ;  dashing  on  rocks  or  through  pines  ;  in- 
creasing, then  gradually  subsiding.  A  rock-bound  coast  with  weather- 
beaten  woods,  mostly  pines. 

Spiritual  vision  ;  strong  emotion  ;  unrest  ;  gradual  peace,  though  not 
joy. 


308  MUSIC  AS  A   REPRESENTATIVE  ART. 

H.  The  last  part  makes  upon  me  the  impression  of  a  scene  of  farewell, 
and  I  seem  to  see  the  departing  friend  disappear  beyond  a  hill. 

/.  Dark  clouds  ;  storm.  An  old  German  church  with  suggestion  at 
the  close  of  a  funeral  sermon  over  some  great  and  heroic  character.  A 
feeling  throughout  as  of  a  strong  resounding  sea  against  a  frowning  coast. 

y.  A  controversy  or  argument  between  a  man  and  a  woman,  ending 
with  great  peace. 

Kt  The  incoming  tide  dashing  on  the  rocks,  with  intervals  of  quiet 
ebb. 

L.  Church  music  ;  offertoire  ;  also  organ  playing  while  waiting  for  a 
wedding  party  ;  cheerful,  and  not  too  joyful  ;  serene  ;  also  the  suggestion 
of  hearing  the  organ  playing  inside,  while  outside,  in  the  summer.     (Bach.) 

Question  V. 

How  would  you  describe  the  general  mood  which  the  following  music  is 
fitted  to  incite,  or  the  atmosphere  which  seems  to  pervade  it? — Beethoven, 
"  Piano- forte  Sonata  in  E,"  op.  109.  Andante  molto  cantabile.  The  theme 
alone  without  the  variations.     Piano  solo. 

It  suggests  to  me  a  mood  of  devotional  meditation  (Andackt). 

Answers  to  V. 

A.  I  am  still  too  much  under  the  influence  of  No.  IV.  to  be  affected  by 
this  number. 

B.  Doubt ;  hesitation. 

C.  Resignation. 

D.  Peaceful,  but  sadness  in  it. 

E.  Pensive,  not  passionate,  and  grave  ;  not  regretful.  Nothing  more 
determined. 

F.  Prayer. 

G.  Proceeds  from  a  placid  mood  in  the  presence  of  the  sublime. 
H.     Religious. 

I.     Devotional  scene ;  not  very  religious,  but  dignified. 
J.     Seriousness,  solemnity,  thoughtfulness,  religious  feeling. 
K.     Reverent,  joyful  worship. 

Strasburg  Cathedral ;  a  procession  passing  along  the  nave  ;  a  choir-boy 
swinging  a  censer  turns  his  face  and  looks  at  the  spectator. 

L.     Somewhat  religious,  though  it  has  a  shade  of  vague  unrest  in  it. 

M.     Religious,  suggests  some  German  church  music. 

N.     No  impression  worth  noting  beyond  a  general  atmosphere  as  of  a 


REPRESENTATION    WHEN  ASSOCIATIVE.  309 

calm  introduction  to  a  dignified  ceremony  (?).  This  interpretation  seems 
doubtful. 

O.  Not  sure — thought  still  about  the  former  piece.  Is  it  religious  peace 
and  resignation  ? 

P.     Tender  seriousness. 

A.  Religious  expansion  ;  grateful  worship  of  a  full,  free  heart. 

B.  Seriousness  of  life. 

C.  Tender  religious  melancholy  tinged  with  a  sense  of  pathetic 
pleasure. 

D.  Placid  retrospect. 

E.  Known.     A  mood  of  comfort  and  endurance  born  from  sorrow. 

F.  Retrospection. 

G.  Devotional  ;  religious. 

H.     Longing  after  a  higher  life. 
/.     Hock,  heilig  und  hehr. 
J.     A  generous  and  complete  nature. 

K.     Self-control  and  the  quiet,  happy  feeling  that  follows  success. 
L.     A  restless  person  waiting  for  some  tardy  arrival,  trying  to  forget 
himself  in  writing  out  some  serious  music." 

It  is  evident  that  music  may  be  representative  in  the 
ways  indicated  in  each  of  the  quotations  from  these  three 
writers  without  being  in  any  distinctive  sense  imitative. 
All  that  is  necessary  is  that  its  successive  phases  should 
follow  a  general  order  similar  to  that  to  which  we  have 
become  accustomed  in  certain  series  of  sounds  or  sights 
in  nature.  We  have  noticed,  perhaps,  a  quiet  rill  devel- 
oped into  a  cataract,  and  this  again  into  a  quiet  pool ;  or 
a  clear  sky  developed  into  a  storm  and  this  again  into  a 
clear  sky  ;  or  peace  developed  into  war  and  this  again  into 
peace  ;  and  one  or  the  other  of  these  series  of  phenomena 
is  suggested  to  us  when  we  hear  a  series  of  musical  effects 
developed  in  what  appears  to  be  a  similar  order.  The 
reason  why  these  or  any  other  phenomena  are  suggested 
is  because  of  the  principle  of  correspondence,  which,  as 
has  been  said,  underlies  all  methods  of  expression,  espe- 
cially those  exemplified  in  discoursive  elocution.     Accord- 


310  MUSIC  AS  A   REPRESENTATIVE  ART. 

ing  to  this  principle,  it  is  instinctively  felt,  even  when  not 
consciously  thought,  that  different  phases  of  invisible  and 
inaudible  moods  follow  one  another  in  analogy  to  phases 
of  a  visible  or  an  audible  character. 

With  this  general  understanding  of  the  nature  of  mu- 
sical representation  when  not  imitative,  we  shall  be  pre- 
pared to  recognize  the  essential  truth  of  the  following 
description  and  interpretation  of  the  most  prominent  of 
the  forms  of  musical  composition.  The  passage  is  taken 
from  an  article  entitled,  "  The  Intellectual  Influence  of 
Music,"  contributed  by  J.  S.  Dwight,  formerly  editor  of  the 
"  Journal  of  Music  "  to  "  The  Atlantic  Monthly  "  for  1870. 

"  Look  at  the  Symphony,  or  what  is  technically  called  the  Sonata  form, 
common  to  sonatas,  symphonies,  trios,  stringed  quartettes,  classical  con- 
certos, etc.  This  form,  too,  we  say,  is  not  mere  accident  .  .  .  the  reason 
of  it  is  to  be  sought  in  the  nature  of  the  human  soul  and  in  the  corresponding 
nature  of  music. 

"  How  is  it  with  us  when  a  matter  interests  us  and  excites  us  to  that  pitch 
of  feeling  in  which  music  steps  in  as  the  natural  language?  Our  whole 
nature  is  engaged  in  it.  The  head,  or  thinking  principle  ;  the  heart,  or 
feeling,  loving  principle  ;  the  will,  or  active  principle  ;  and  more  or  less 
(amid  these  earnest  powers)  the  lively,  recreative  play  of  fancy, — all  take 
part  in  it,  all  in  turn  are  principally  addressed  by  it.  Reason,  passion, 
frolic,  humor,  will ;  these  seek  each  its  type  and  representative  in  the  forms 
of  an  art  so  perfectly  human  and  so  pliant  to  the  motions  of  the  human  soul 
as  music.  If  a  matter  taxes  our  reasoning,  truth-seeking  faculties  for  one 
spell,  it  is  a  law  of  our  nature  that  we  then  quit  thinking  and  only  feel  about 
it  for  another  spell.  We  modulate  out  of  the  dialectic  into  the  religious  and 
accepting  mood.  It  was  an  argument,  an  emulous  labor  of  the  brain  ;  it 
has  become  a  lyric  of  the  heart,  a  prayer,  a  hymn,  a  softly  rising  incense  and 
aroma  of  the  faith  and  love  and  longing  in  us.  And  then,  the  more  we  have 
been  in  earnest,  the  more  naturally  comes  the  reaction  of  frolic  fantasy,  and 
humor,  the  more  lively  the  suggestions  and  '  heat-lightnings '  of  a  quick, 
surcharged,  midsummer  fancy, — the  scherzo  humors  that  so  often  flash  from 
characters  of  deepest  pathos.  But  the  circle  of  moods  is  not  yet  complete. 
Thought,  feeling,  fancy,  are  but  phases  of  the  living  stream  that  yet  must 
ultimate  itself  in  action,  must  rush  into  deed,  and  so  pour  its  life  into  the 


REPRESENTATION    WHEN  ASSOCIATIVE.  311 

great  ocean  whence  all  proceed  and  to  which  all  tend.  That  is  the  finale. 
Now  for  the  musical  correspondence. 

"  The  first,  or  allegro  movement  of  a  symphony,  takes  up  a  theme,  or 
themes,  and  proceeds  to  their  discussion  and  elaboration.  It  begins  with  a 
principal  theme  or  subject ;  presently,  with  the  natural  modulation  into  the 
dominant  or  relative  key,  comes  in  a  counter  theme  ;  these  two  are  developed 
and  contrasted  a  little  way,  when  the  whole  passage  is  literally  repeated  to 
fix  them  firmly  in  the  mind.  Then  begins  a  sort  of  analytic  canvassing  of 
all  that  they  contain  ;  fragments,  phrases  of  the  one  are  blended  with  or 
off-set  against  the  other  ;  the  two  propositions  (often  making  up  a  number 
of  accessory  subjects  by  the  way)  are  subjected  to  a  sort  of  exhaustive  mu- 
sical logic,  till  what  is  in  them  is  brought  fully  out  and  verified.  By  a  sort 
of  refining,  differentiating,  intellectual  argumentation,  these  themes  are  held 
up  in  various  lights,  are  developed  singly  and  in  contrast,  and  are  worked 
through  various  keys,  abridgments,  augmentations,  episodes,  digressions, 
into  a  most  various  and  complex  whole,  in  which  the  same  original  threads 
or  themes  continually  reappear,  yet  with  perpetual  sense  of  novelty.  The 
intellectual  principle  delights  in  analysis,  in  the  detection  of  differences  and 
distinctions.  So  the  symphonic  allegro  betrays  a  tendency  to  continual 
divergence  and  escape  from  the  first  starting-point.  There  is  an  art-type  of 
discussion,  whose  whole  aim  and  tendency  is  unity  and  truth.  What  a  type 
of  catholicity  in  thought  !  Discussion,  no  denial ;  music  is  incapable  of 
that ;  Mephistopheles  in  music  must  make  sad  work  or  forget  his  nature. 

"  Then  comes  the  adagio,  larghetto,  andante, — some  slow  movement, 
which  has  more  calm,  still  feeling  and  unquestioning  religion  in  it.  This 
is  the  central  sanctuary  in  this  musical  abridgment  of  man's  life,  which  every 
good  symphony  appears  to  be.     This  the  heart  ;  that  the  head. 

"  The  serious  andante  passes, — sometimes  directly,  sometimes  through  the 
frolic  scherzo,  and  the  minuet  and  trio, — into  the  rondo  finale,  which  is 
rapid  and  full  of  the  spirit  and  preparation  for  action,  full  of  resolve  and 
fire.  The  sentiment  which  has  passed  through  the  crucible  of  the  judgment 
in  the  allegro,  and  sought  its  divine  repose  at  the  religious  altar  of  feeling  in 
the  adagio,  having  traversed  its  intellectual  and  its  effective  phases,  now 
puts  on  its  armor  and  moves  on  with  alacrity  for  action.  (Though,  in  many 
lighter  symphonies,  it  is  more  like  a  school-boy  pulling  on  his  hat  and  rush- 
ing out  of  doors  in  pure  animal  spirits.)  It  seems  to  act  itself  out  with 
buoyant  confidence  ;  sometimes  with  sublime  triumph,  as  in  the  march  con- 
cluding the  C  Minor  Symphony." 

Before  closing  this  chapter,  a  few  words  may  be  in 
place  with  reference  to  what  is  termed  program  music. 


3 1 2  MUSIC  AS  A  REPRESENTA  TIVE  AR T. 

By  this  is  meant  a  symphony  or  shorter  composition  in 
connection  with  the  performance  of  which  there  is  dis- 
tributed among  the  audience  a  printed  explanation  of  the 
scenes  or  events,  or  series  of  them,  to  which  the  move- 
ments of  the  music  are  supposed  to  be  analogous.  Many 
object  to  such  explaining  of  musical  effects.  But  from 
what  has  been  said,  it  is  evident  that  definite  scenes  not 
only  may  be,  but  probably  are,  conceived  by  the  composer 
when  engaged  in  his  work  ;  and  it  is  only  natural  to  sup- 
pose, as  Liszt  did,  that  to  let  one's  audiences  know  what 
these  were,  will  add  to  the  interest  of  the  music,  just  as  a 
printed  description  may  add  to  the  interest,  for  instance, 
of  an  historical  painting.  We  may  even  go  so  far,  too,  as 
to  suppose  that  such  a  description  may  add  to  the  dis- 
tinctively aesthetic  interest.  According  to  the  theory 
advanced  in  Chapters  X.  to  XV.  of  "Art  in  Theory," 
especially  on  page  160,  the  degree  of  beauty  is  often  in- 
creased in  the  degree  in  which  the  number  of  effects  enter- 
ing into  its  generally  complex  nature  is  increased.  This 
is  true  even  though  some  of  these  effects,  as  in  the  case  of 
forms  conjured  before  the  imagination  by  a  verbal  descrip- 
tion, may  come  from  a  source  which,  considered  in  itself, 
is  not  aesthetic.  It  must  not  be  overlooked,  however,  that 
all  beauty  whatever  is  a  characteristic  of  form  ;  and  that 
intellectual  effects,  like  these  explanations,  to  have  an 
aesthetic  influence,  must  always  be  presented  to  apprehen- 
sion in  connection  with  an  external  form  with  which  they 
can  be  clearly  associated.  For  this  reason,  though  they 
may  add  to  the  aesthetic  interest,  where  it  already  exists, 
they  cannot,  of  themselves,  make  up  for  a  lack  of  it.  To 
a  work  of  art  an  explanation  is  much  what  canes  are  to 
walking.  Well  used,  they  may  increase  the  gracefulness 
of  impression  conveyed  by  a  man's  gait.     But  this  cannot 


REPRESENTATION  WHEN   ASSOCIATIVE.  313 

be  graceful  at  all,  unless  he  is  able  to  walk  without  them. 
So  a  picture  cannot  be  all  that  a  work  of  art  should  be, 
unless,  without  one's  knowing  what  the  explanation  is 
designed  to  impart,  the  drawing  and  coloring  can,  in 
some  degree,  at  least,  attract  and  satisfy  aesthetic  interest. 
Neither  can  a  musical  composition,  unless  it  too,  without 
the  aid  of  explanations,  through  the  mere  unfolding  of 
musical  motives  in  a  distinctively  musical  way,  can  afford, 
at  least,  some  degree  of  aesthetic  delight. 

So  far  as  an  explanation  is  intended  to  be  used  as 
a  crutch  instead  of  a  cane,  the  opponents  of  program 
music  are  justified.  But,  on  the  other  hand,  so  long  as  a 
composer  refrains  from  conditioning  upon  his  printed 
description  such  effects'as  are  not  legitimate  to  it,  there 
seems  to  be  no  good  reason  why  he  should  not  share  his 
confidences  with  his  audiences,  and  let  them  know  what 
visible  phenomena  seemed  represented  by  his  product 
when  he  was  preparing  it.  In  pursuing  this  course,  why 
is  he  not  acting  as  strictly  in  accordance  with  the  princi- 
ples of  his  art,  as  is  the  composer  of  an  opera  when  he 
indicates  to  his  stage  managers  how  to  represent  the 
movements  of  his  music  through  still  more  visible  scenery 
and  action  ? 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

MUSICAL     REPRESENTATION     IN     SERIES     OF     PASSAGES 
WHEN  IMITATIVE,  WITH  REMARKS  ABOUT   WAGNER. 

Influence  upon  Representation  of  Slight  Imitative  Effects — Examples  :  Bark- 
ing of  a  Dog — Braying  of  an  Ass — Nightingale's  Song — Cackling  of  a 
Hen — Cluck  of  Same — Human  Sounds — Laughter — Yawning — Sneez- 
ing— Coughing — Quarrelling — Sobbing — Scolding  —  Moaning  —  Fond- 
ling —  Playing  —  Frightening  Others  —  Paganini's  Testimony  —  The 
General  Character  of  Wagner's  Motives — His  Peculiar  Method  of  Using 
them — Result  of  this,  Especially  upon  those  not  Previously  Appreciat- 
ing Music — His  Tendency  toward  a  Language  of  Music — Will  Others 
Develop  this — Two  Methods  in  which  it  may  be  Done  with  Safety — 
Conclusion. 

TT  is  evident  that  the  analogies  indicated  in  Chapter 
VIL  between  the  general  order  of  series  of  sounds 
and  the  order  of  particular  phases  of  nature  that  they  are 
intended  to  suggest,  can  be  rendered  much  more  distinctly 
apprehensible  by  adding  to  what  is  only  generally  repre- 
sentative by  way  of  analogy  that  which  is  specifically  so 
by  way  of  imitation.  It  would  need  but  a  few  imitative 
strokes  of  a  drum,  for  instance,  to  make  that  which  might 
suggest  either  a  storm  or  a  battle,  suggest  one  of  these 
rather  than  the  other.  In  this  regard,  musical  forms  cor- 
respond exactly  to  poetic  forms.  Some  words  are  repre- 
sentative because  they  suggest  a  similarity  in  underlying 
causes — like  the  word  expressive,  derived  as  it  is,  from 
analogies  between  pressing  one  material  substance  out  of 
another  material  substance,  and  doing  something  similar 

314 


REPRESENTATION    WHEN  ASSOCIATIVE. 


315 


with  a  purely  mental  substance.  Other  words  are  repre- 
sentative because  they  suggest  a  similarity  in  apparent 
effects — like  the  imitative  words  "  buzz  "  or  "  crackle." 
The  same  is  true,  too,  of  phrases  and  sentences.  Some 
are  artistic  because  they  recall  an  analagous  series  of  rela- 
tionships, and  some  because  they  also  recall  an  analagous 
series  of  sounds. 

We  have  noticed  already,  as  applied  to  music,  how  not 
only  associative  but  imitative  effects  may  be  produced  by 
a  main  use  of  each  of  the  different  elements  of  duration, 
force,  pitch,  and  quality.  Here  are  a  few  more  examples 
produced  by  a  combination  of  these.  It  is  not  necessary 
to  say  that  they  have  the  same  general  relation  to  musical 
effects  that  descriptive  passages  have  to  those  of  poetry. 
The  following  imitations  are  noticed  by  Gardiner  in  his 
"  Music  of  Nature."  Here  is  a  representation  of  the  bark- 
ing of  a  dog  by  Haydn  in  his  "  Thirty-eighth  Quartet": 


^  TTTrrrrr 


-g- 


No.  67. 

Here  one  of  the  bray  of  the  ass  by  the  same  composer  in 
his  "  Seventy-sixth  Quartet  "  : 


FJhr^r- — n=i — g-n — feR= 


m 


No.  68  "  a." 


YLfL 


3 
No.  68 


316  MUSIC  AS  A   REPRESENTATIVE  ART. 

In  this  he  represents  the  song  of  the  nightingale  ; 


:ftir*— P- 


Lte: 


'-v- 


^^^33 


Sweet  bird   that  shunn'st  the  noise      of     fol  -    ly, 
Most   mu  -   sic  -  al,      most  mel  -   an  -  chol  -  y! 

No.  69. 


And  in  this,  from  the  Finale  of  his  "  Twentieth  Quar- 
tet," the  cackling  of  a  hen  : 


i 


igg 


£3E3=3=3=m 


-j  J  J  j 


No.  70. 

The  cluck  of  the  hen  (imitated  also  by  Mozart  and 
Rossini)  is  thus  given  by  Beethoven  in  his  "Third 
Symphony  " : 


eifcd? 


i 


a 


^— -* 


-*■        •*•        ■*        ■*■        •* 


^r^? 


=^a 


No.  71. 

Imitation    in   music,  however,  is   confined   largely   to 
representing   tones   natural   to  the   human   voice.     The 
authority  last  quoted  notices  the  following  : 
Of  laughter,  by  Handel, 


No.  72. 


REPRESENTATION    WHEN  IMITATIVE.  317 

by  Weber, 


^=Pfr-Y— F^M=fi^S 


?=&=3 


No.  73. 


Of  yawning,  by  Haydn  in  his  "  Fifty-seventh  Quartet  " 


E 


-N -4- 


-r— g 


-^-S- 


2E£ 


i 


No.  74. 


s 


■fa     ^8  ^     ■    ,       0f     sneezing, 

l| j-^1  g     7  _glT==SJEEJ  by  the  same  i 

his       " 


No.  75. 


^LtAujJ^ 


P 

No.  76. 


dS~ j 


EJ=J^=fe| 


**E 


m 


r 

No.  77. 


Eighth 
Symphony." 


Of  a  cough,  by 
the  same. 


Of  three  per- 
sons in  a  passion, 
by  Beethoven  in 
his" Third  Trio." 


Of  the  sobbing  of  a  child,  by  Rossini  in  a  duet  in  "  Gazza 
Ladra  "  : 


fc£ 


£=*£ 


|^5zq=S;=^!: 


'— *-•-*- 


No.  78. 


318  MUSIC  AS  A    REPRESENTATIVE  ART. 

Of  the  scolding  of  a  woman  in  the  overture  by  Mozart  to 
the  "Magic  Flute": 


& 


» — m — m — 0 — z-t-j-*— »-— — _l — j 


^fc 


iig^^jSE^^gl^^ 


No.  79. 

Of  the  moan  of  sorrow  and  pain,  by  Beethoven  in  his 
"  Third  Trio  M  : 


^EEElEE^^LJ—i 


±=a 


^^ 


No.  80. 


Of  the  tone  of  a  mother  fondling  her  child  in  Haydn's 
"  Fifty-eighth  Quartet  "  : 


fegige^i^pmis^i 


No.  81. 


Of  the  sounds  of  children  at  play  in   Mozart's  "  Fifth 
Quintet": 


inm 


ggpp 


:ci- 


ZT- 


No.  82. 


REPRESENTATION   WHEN  IMITATIVE.  319 

Of  children  frightening  one  another,  in  the  opening  of 
Beethoven's  "  Symphony  in  C  Minor."  Concerning  this 
strain,  Beethoven  is  said  to  have  remarked,  "  It  is  thus 
that  fate  knocks  at  the  gate  " : 

f*  ^ 


Woo,  woo,  woo,  woo,  woo,  woo,  woo,  woo. 

No.  83. 

Very  likely  some  of  the  above  appearances  of  imitation 
are  merely  coincidences.  Others,  perhaps,  are  strains  that 
had  been  heard  by  the  composer  and  retained  in  memory, 
and  were  afterward  used  without  any  definite  notion  of 
the  source  from  which  they  were  derived.  Yet  there  can 
be  no  doubt  that  many  of  them  furnish  illustrations  of 
conscious  imitation.  Notice  what  Paganini  says  about  one 
of  his  performances.  His  words  are  quoted  as  given  by 
Gardiner  in  his  "  Music  of  Nature,"  Chapter  XL : 

' '  I  accordingly  gave  notice  at  court  that  I  should  bring  forward  a  musical 
novelty  under  the  title  of  a  Love  Scene  .  .  I  .  .  .  previously 
robbed  it  [his  violin]  of  the  two  middle  strings,  so  that  none  but  the  F  and 
G  remained  ;  the  first  string  being  designed  to  play  the  maiden's  part  and 
the  lowest  the  youth's.  I  began  with  a  series  of  dialogue  in  which  I  at- 
tempted to  introduce  movements  analogous  to  transient  bickerings  and 
reconciliations  between  the  lovers.  Now  the  strings  growled  and  then 
sighed,  and  anon  lisped,  hesitated,  joked,  and  joyed,  till  at  last  they  sported 
with  merry  jubilee.  Shortly,  both  souls  joined  once  more  in  harmony,  and 
the  appeased  lovers  quarreled  to  a  pas  de  deaux  which  terminated  in  a 
brilliant  Coda." 

Wagner's  themes,  or  motives,  as  they  are  termed,  and 
his  uses  of  them  were  so  unique  in  character  as  to  de- 
serve special  mention.   As  indicated  by  the  selections  from 


320  MUSIC  AS  A   REPRESENTATIVE  ART. 

his  works  inserted  in  previous  chapters,  many  of  these 
themes  were  based  upon  the  principle  of  imitation.  But 
many  more,  as  has  been  shown,  were  based  upon  that  of 
expression  according  to  the  methods  of  discoursive  rather 
than  dramatic  elocution.  Whether  he  himself  was 
thoroughly  conscious  to  what  an  extent  this  was  true  is 
uncertain,  though  it  is  hardly  conceivable  that  one  who 
had  made  so  exhaustive  a  study  of  the  effects  of  sound, 
should  not  have  had  some  definite  theories  with  reference 
to  their  significance.  Most  musicians,  however,  though 
quick  to  detect  the  appropriateness  of  different  move- 
ments for  different  sentiments,  have  difficulty  in  explain- 
ing the  reasons  for  their  preferences  ;  and  it  may  have 
been  the  same  with  him.  But  if  so,  it  is  a  remarkable 
proof  of  the  accuracy  of  his  musical  instincts  that,  without 
guidance  of  the  reason,  he  should  have  made  so  few  mis- 
takes, as  judged  from  even  the  point  of  view  of  the 
elocutionist. 

While  there  is  this  to  commend  his  motives,  however, 
it  is  not  these  in  themselves  so  much  as  the  way  in  which 
he  introduced  and  combined  them,  that  distinguishes  his 
musical  effects  from  those  of  other  composers.  His 
method  was  first  to  associate  a  motive  with  some  person, 
object,  action,  or  event ;  and  afterward,  whenever  that  with 
which  it  was  associated  appeared  upon  the  stage  or  was 
suggested  by  the  language,  thought,  feelings,  or  situations, 
the  motive  itself  was  introduced  into  either  the  melody  of 
the  voice  or  the  harmony  of  the  instrumentation.  Not 
only  so,  but  a  certain  correspondence  was  musically  indi- 
cated between  the  way  in  which  this  was  introduced  and 
the  relations  of  the  person,  object,  action,  or  event  to  the 
circumstances  attendant  upon  its  introduction. 

This   method,  to  those  who  have  familiarized  them- 


REPRESENTATION    WHEN  IMITATIVE.  32 1 

selves  with  the  motives,  causes  an  opera  of  Wagner  to  have 
a  double  effect :  first,  the  ordinary  musical  effect  which  is 
due  to  the  development  of  the  melodies  and  harmonies 
for  their  own  sakes  ;  and,  second,  the  intellectual  effect 
which  is  due  to  connecting  each  of  these  motives  with 
that  which  it  suggests,  and  noticing  the  way  in  which  it 
blends  with  other  motives  or  opposes  them.  This  action 
on  an  extended  scale,  of  motive  upon  motive,  is  what 
Wagner  meant  by  dramatic  music,  and  it  is  in  the  develop- 
ment of  this  that  he  chiefly  manifested  his  originality.  It 
is  owing  to  it,  too,  that  he  has  obtained  such  a  hold  upon 
his  admirers.  His  method  of  adapting  music  to  the  re- 
quirements of  intellect  necesssarily  adds  to  it  an  intellec- 
tual interest.  In  fact,  after  making  all  due  allowance  for 
those  who  applaud  and  apparently  enjoy  his  music  for  the 
same  reason  that  they  applaud  and  apparently  enjoy  any- 
thing which  is  understood  to  be  fashionable,  there  are  cer- 
tainly many  people  formerly  unable  to  appreciate  anything 
musical,  who  have  learned  to  perceive  in  his  works  that 
which  they  can  appreciate,  and  who,  by  first  coming  to 
take  delight  in  music  as  developed  by  him,  have  come 
to  take  an  otherwise,  for  them,  impossible  interest  in  all  its 
legitimate  forms.  Through  effects  thus  exerted  Wagner 
greatly  dignified  the  art  to  which  he  devoted  himself, 
as  well  as  extended  the  sphere  of  its  influence. 

But  notice  that  the  circumstance  which  enabled  him  to 
do  this  was  the  fact  that  with  him  series  of  notes  are 
brought  together  in  exact  analogy  to  the  way  in  which 
the  much  briefer  series  of  syllables  or  words  are  brought 
together  in  speech.  To  a  certain  extent,  it  might  be  said, 
therefore,  that  what  Wagner  did  was  to  construct  a  lan- 
guage of  which  the  factors  were  not  words  but  motives. 
It  is  conceivable,  of  course,  that  other  musical  composers 


322  MUSIC  AS  A   REPRESENTATIVE  ART. 

in  the  future  will  accept  the  meanings  assigned  by  him  to 
these  motives,  and  use  them,  and  add  to  them,  and  so 
go  on  and  develop  from  them  a  language  of  music,  which 
can  be  understood  universally.  But  probably  this  will 
never  be  done.  Probably,  too,  it  would  be  found  to  be 
undesirable.  It  would  be  almost  certain  to  lead  to  an 
amount  of  imitation  that  would  cause  the  art  to  decline. 

There  are,  however,  two  methods  open  to  composers, 
from  the  applications  of  which  less  danger  of  this  kind 
could  be  apprehended.  One  is  to  originate  their  own 
motives,  and  then  to  use  them  in  their  own  compositions, 
according  to  the  repetitious  methods  of  Wagner.  The 
other,  and,  in  case  of  complete  success,  a  better  method — 
but  only  a  genius  of  the  very  highest  order  could  develop 
it — would  be,  according  to  the  principles  underlying  rep- 
resentation in  duration,  force,  pitch,  and  quality  that  have 
here  been  mentioned,  to  form  a  musical  alphabet  of  the 
emotions,  each  factor  of  which  should  not  be  a  whole 
motive  but  could  be  used  as  a  part  of  a  motive.  Thus 
used,  it  is  possible  to  conceive  that  such  an  alphabet  might 
leave  abundant  scope  for  originality,  and  yet  render  the 
motive,  whenever  heard,  at  least  comparatively  intelli- 
gible. There  is  a  natural,  inarticulated  language  of  the 
emotions  employed  by  all  of  us.  What  reason  is  there  in 
nature  to  suppose  otherwise  than  that  all  its  elements 
might  be  comprehended  and  tabulated  with  sufficient 
definiteness  in  a  few  score  of  carefully  related  forms  of 
sound  ?  As  it  is,  even  now,  every  really  great  composer 
recognizes  the  existence  of  this  language  and  uncon- 
sciously applies  its  principles.  Why  should  they  not  be 
formulated  so  that  all  men  could  know  them  ?  Why 
should  not  the  psychological  correspondences  of  music  be 
unfolded  with  as  much  definiteness  as  those  of  elocution 


REPRESENTATION    WHEN  IMITATIVE.  323 

to  which  in  their  elements  they  are  analogous  ?  Or,  if  the 
formulation  of  the  principles  involved  would  necessitate, 
as  it  might,  artistic  difficulties  and  dangers  impossible  to 
overcome,  why,  at  least,  might  there  not  be  developed 
among  men  such  a  concurrence  of  opinion  with  reference 
to  the  principles  themselves  that  the  composer  would  feel 
constrained,  more  often  than  at  present,  to  regard  them  ? 
And  then,  in  the  degree  in  which  they  were  carried  out 
persistently  and  accurately,  would  not  the  musical  world 
be  made  familiar  with  them,  and  even  the  unmusical  be 
made,  at  any  rate,  to  recognize  their  existence  ? 

Were  this  done  we  should  have  no  more  writers  upon 
aesthetics  with  outer  and  inner  senses — ears  and  minds — 
so  dull  of  perception  as  to  declare  that  music  does  not 
appeal,  as  do  the  other  arts,  to  intelligence,  or  that  it  is 
presentative  and  not  representative.  It  has  been  abun- 
dantly shown  here  that  this  view  is  erroneous ;  but  it 
would  be  an  advantage  to  have  the  recognized  conditions 
of  the  art  clearly  reveal  the  fact.  It  would  be  an  advan- 
tage to  have  music  seen  by  all  in  its  true  position,  standing 
side  by  side  with  poetry,  painting,  sculpture  and  archi- 
tecture, and  representing,  in  just  as  legitimate  a  sense  as 
they,  its  own  appropriate  phase  of  the  influence  which 
nature  exerts  not  merely  upon  the  auditory  nerves — 
which  alone  would  not  account  for  its  spiritual  effects 
— but  also  upon  the  mind. 


INDEX. 


Abruptness,  art-method,  3  ;  in  ef- 
fects of  harmony,  poetic,  162, 
166  ;  musical,  212,  213,  217  ;  of 
metre,  59. 

Accent,  6,  12,  15  ;  as  the  basis 
of  rhythm  and  metre,  17-24  ; 
changes  in  musical,  103  ;  changing 
number  of,  in  poetic  lines,  48-52  ; 
Greek,  22  ;  in  musical  measures, 
101-103,  257  ;  marks  for,  Greek, 
184  ;  musically  representative, 
when  at  unusual  places,  259,  or 
not  strongly  marked,  260 ;  physi- 
cal cause  of,  14,  28. 

Accented  clicks,  and  their  effect 
on  rhythm,  11,  12  ;  syllables,  5, 
should  not  contain  same  sounds 
as  unaccented,  118-120. 

Accomplishment,  rep.  in  music,  297. 

Across  the  World  I  Speak  to  Thee, 

Admiration,  as  represented  in  music, 
294,  296. 

yEneid,  37,  123,  125,  128,  133. 

Esthetic,  History  of,  303. 

Affirmation,  as  represented  in  music, 
266,  270,  275,  286. 

A  Flying  Visit,  86. 

Airs  from  Arcady,  75. 

Alberich's  Cry,  286. 

Alexandrine  Line,  36,  69. 

Allied  syllable  sounds,  consonance 
and  gradation  in,  156-167;  con- 
sonant sounds,  156-158  ;  leading 
to  gradation,  162,  163  ;  vowel- 
sounds,  159. 

Alliteration,  art-method  of,  121-127, 
135,  136,  148,  162,  176;  Anglo- 
Saxon,  124,  125,  148  ;  how  varied, 
148  ;    inartistic,    how   prevented, 


136-167  ;  influenced   by   likeness 

in   thought,   139-143  ;    legitimate 

effects  of,  1 1 7-1 20,  138. 
Alphabet,  musical,  321,  322. 
Alternation,   art-method,  3  ;  in  har- 
mony, 3,  148,  149,  212  ;  in  rhythm, 

3,   118,  119  ;    in  scales,   189  ;    in 

verse,  150,  154,  155. 
Amazement,  as  represented  in  music, 

294. 
Ambrose,  St.,  186,  268. 
American  Girl,  An,  81. 
American    Journal    of    Psychology, 

II.  305. 
Among  Comrades  March,  258. 
Analogies  between  series  of  events 

and  musical  order,  310,  314. 
Anapaest  measure,  27,  31,  62-64. 
Ancient  Mariner,  The,  20,  130. 
Angelo,  xix,  71. 
Angel  Whisper,  The,  47. 
Anger,  or  passion,  as  represented  in 

music,  3*17. 
Anglo-Saxon  alliteration,   124,   125, 

148. 
Anima  Anceps,  165. 
Annabel  Lee,  167. 
Antecedent  section  in  music,  98,  99. 
Anticipation,     as      represented      in 

music,    266,    269-272,     275-277, 

286-289,  296. 
Antigone,  xiii. 
Antiquary,  From  the,  155. 
Antony  and  Cleopatra,  126. 
A  Poet's  Epitaph,  56. 
Approbation,      as     represented      in 

music,  267. 
Arab    to    his  Favorite  Steed,  The, 

33- 
Arbuthnot,  Epistle  to,  116. 


325 


326  RHYTHM  AND  HARMONY  IN  POETRY  AND  MUSIC. 


Architecture,  correspondences  to 
other  arts,  4-7  ;  representation  in, 
232-234 ;  necessity  of  regarding 
both  form  and  significance  in, 
236,  237. 

Ariosto,  71. 

Aristotle,  24,  29,  189,  303. 

Arnold,  M.,  36;  Sir  E.,  48. 

Arrangement  of  sounds,  as  related  to 
ease  of  utterance,  113-117  ;  effect 
on  mind  and  memory,  113,  114; 
to  sense,  1 16  ;  showing  likeness  of 
thought  in  harmony,  143. 

Art  of  Music  as  distinguished  from 
Natural  Music,  248. 

Art  of  Poetry,  The,  135. 

Art  in  Ornament  and  Dress,  154. 

Art  in  Theory,  v-vii,  x,  xi,  xiv,  xix, 
2,  91,  136,  186,  231,  232,  235, 
242,  248. 

Art,  need  of  philosophic  study  of, 
iv,  ix. 

Artistic,  The,  fulfils  requirements 
of  nature,  21,  37. 

Artist,  master  of  his  methods,  xiv, 
xv. 

Artists,  their  use  of  effects  precedes 
scientists'  knowledge  of  causes, 
no,  177. 

Aspirate  quality,  293,  294,  297. 

Asses,  as  represented  in  music,  279, 
315. 

Association,  as  influencing  musical 
representation,  242,  254,  301-313. 

Assonance,  127-131,  162,  176  ;  em- 
ployed in  place  of  rhyme,  131  ; 
how  varied,  148  ;  inartistic,  how 
prevented,  136-167  ;  influenced 
by  likeness  in  thought,  139-143  ; 
legitimate  effects  of,  1 17-120, 
133. 

Assurance,  as  represented  in  music, 
267. 

As  You  Like  It,  152. 

Athens,  an  ode,  33. 

Atlantic  Monthly,  310. 

At  the  Church  Gate,  45. 

Awe,  as  represented  in  music,  294, 
296. 

Bain,  Alexander,  116. 


Balance,  art-method,  3  ;  as  used  in 
harmony,  148-155,  159,  160,  211- 
213  ;  in  rhythm,  19,  30,  38,  55, 
120  ;  in  polyphonic  music,  190  ;  in 
scales,  189  ;  excess  of,  153. 

Ballade,  80-82. 

Ballade  of  Lovelace,  82. 

Ballad  of  Sark,  A,  48. 

Bannockburn,  174. 

Barry,  124. 

Bass  in  music,  210,  223. 

Bassoon,  295,  299. 

Battles,  as  represented  in  music,  297. 

Beasts,  tread  of,  as  represented  in 
music,  299. 

Beats  in  music,  224-226. 

Beauty,  2  ;  definition  of,  vii-ix. 

Beautiful  Snow,  31. 

Beethoven,  xix,  97-100;  238,  245, 
260,  279,  306,  308,  316,  318,  319. 

Bells,  The,  31,  46,  56,  167. 

Ben  Allah  Achmet,  87. 

Berlioz,  245. 

Bertha  in  the  Lane,  45,  67. 

Biglow  Papers,  88. 

Bird  Motive,  299. 

Birds,  as  represented  in  music,  279, 
297,  299,  316. 

Blanc,  C,  154. 

Blank  Verse,  34,  42,  44,  49,  50  ; 
irregular.  42-44  ;  broken,  51. 

Bloody  Mary  Architecture,  237. 

Bolero,  104. 

Bolton,  T.  L.,  n,   13. 

Bosenquet,  303. 

Bowker,  R.  S.,  32. 

Brahm,  304. 

Break,  break,  break,  20,  40. 

Breathing,  influence  on  poetic  lines, 
14,  15,  28,  30;  on  divisions  in 
music,  94,  95. 

Bridges,  R.,  44. 

Browning,  Mrs.,  45,  67,  71  ;  R., 
xiv.,  127,  143. 

Brut  d'Angleterre,  129,  133. 

Brydges,  65. 

Bucolics,  123. 

Bunner,  H.  C,  75. 

Buoyancy,  as  represented  in  music, 
257,  270,  281. 

Burbridge,  T.,  47. 


INDEX. 


327 


Burns,  69,  174. 

Buzz  of  insects,  as  represented   in 

music,  299. 
Byrne,  F.  M.,  83. 
Byron,  33,  49,  69,  105,  127. 
By  the  North  Sea,  152. 

Cadence,  musical,  210 ;  representa- 
tive, either  as  major  or  minor, 
282-290 ;  when  complete,  286  ; 
minor  as  representative,  289. 

Caesura,  30,  31. 

Calderon,  124,  129,  151. 

Camp  Bell,  The,  55. 

Canadian  Boat  Song,  The,  263. 

Canning,  Geo.,  89. 

Canterbury,  Tales,  Prologue,  129. 

Canto,  57. 

Capen,  C.  L.,  305. 

Captain  Reece,  86,  134. 

Catholic  Church  and  development  of 
harmony,  190. 

Central-Point,  art-method  of,  3  ;  in 
harmony,  143,  212  ;  in  rhythm,  19. 

Certainty,  as  represented  in  music, 
276. 

Chain  Verse,  French,  79,  80 

Changes,  of  Accent  in  Verse- Lines, 
48-52  ;  of  Syllables,  39-48. 

Chant  Royal,  84. 

Charon,  124. 

Chart  of  Methods  of  Art  Composi- 
tion, 3. 

Chaucer,  67-70,  129,  133. 

Chaucerian  Stanza,  68  ;  Shorter,  67  ; 
Longer,  70. 

Child  during  Sickness,  To  a,  174. 

Childe,  Harold,  49,  69,  70,  127. 

Children  of  the  Lord's  Supper,  32, 

35. 

Children's  Hour,  47. 

Chinese  music,  193 ;  poetry,  135, 
141  ;  scale,  203. 

Choosing  a  Name,  47. 

Chords,  160,  162  ;  compounded  of 
partial  tones,  217-220;  congruity 
in  effect  of,  179  ;  dominant,  sub- 
dominant,  tonic,  210,  2ii,  214, 
215  ;  effects  similar  to  those  of 
rhythm,  222,  223  ;  harmonizing 
major  scale,  208,   210  ;    ratios  of 


notes  in,  219,  220  ;  representation 
in,  211,  282-290;  seventh,  211, 
218 ;  seventh  as  representative, 
283-290  ;  transitions  in  ;  212-217  > 
from  major  to  minor,  215-217  ; 
why  enjoyable,  179  ;  why  neces- 
sary to  music,  221-228. 

Chorus,  more  enjoyable  than  single 
voice,  179. 

Cimbeline,  52. 

Clarinet,  as  representative,  296. 

Classicism  versus  Romanticism, 
x-xv. 

Classic  Verse  and  Metre,  21-23. 

Clef,  alto,  183;  bass,  182;  C.  183; 
Fa.,  F.  182;  G.,  182;  Sol.,  182; 
soprano,  tenor,  183;  treble,  182. 

Climax,  musical,  285. 

Cloud,  The,  132. 

C  Minor  symphony,    100,    311,319. 

Coleridge,  20,  21,  39,  40,  42,  55, 
130. 

Coles,  A.,  32. 

Colonna,  V,  71. 

Color,  as  tone,  6,  107,  108  ;  gamut 
of,  162. 

Columbian  Medal,  xx. 

Comic  effects  of  rhythm,  85-89  ;  of 
rhyme,  87-89. 

Common  metre,  62,  85. 

Comparison,  art-method,  3  ;  in  har- 
mony of  music,    185  ;  of  poetry, 

117,  120,  139,  149 ;  in  melody, 
187  ;  of  rhythm,  16,  20,  38,  92  ; 
of  the  scale,  188  ;  underlying 
musical  representation,  242,  254. 

Comparison,  the  act  of,  represented 
by  inflections,  275. 

Complaining,  as  represented  in 
music,  282. 

Complaint  of  Mars,  70. 

Complement,  art-method,  3  ;  effects 
in  syllable-sounds,  164  ;  in  har- 
mony of   music,  212  ;  of  poetry, 

118,  120,  148-154,  159:  in 
rhythm,  16,  30,  38,  55  ;  in  scales, 
189  ;  polyphonic  music,  190  ;  too 
much  of,  153. 

Complementary  colors,  162. 
Completing  a  musical  idea,  represen- 
tation of,  266. 


328  RHYTHM  AND  HARMONY  IN  POETRY  AND  MUSIC. 


Complex  wholes  united  in  art,  when 
they  have  like  partial  effects,  53, 
100,  121,  138,  176,  177,  200,  209, 
217,  228. 

Complexity,  art-method,  3  ;  in  mu- 
sical harmony,  179  ;  in  rhythm,  16, 
in  verse-harmony,  108,  no,  119. 

Complication,  art-method,  3  ;  in 
harmony,  154-156,  190-212 ;  in 
rhythm,  55,  57,  95. 

Composition,  table  of  methods  of 
in  art,  3. 

Compound  metre  28. 

Comprehensiveness,  art-method,  3  ; 
in  harmony,  poetic,  142,  143,  149  ; 
musical,  212  ;  in  rhythm,  18. 

Conclusiveness,  as  represented  in 
music,  267,  270,  271,  275-277,  286 
-289. 

Concord.     See  Chord. 

Confidence,  as  represented  in  music, 
258. 

Confusion,  art-method,  3  ;  in  har- 
mony, poetic,  116;  musical,  190, 
208  ;  in  rhythm,  16,  93. 

Congruity,  art-method,  3  ;  in  har- 
mony, poetic,  139  ;  musicai,  185, 
212  ;  in  melody,  187  ;  rhythm,  17, 
18,  20 ;  scale,  188  ;  tones,  179. 

Consequent  section  in  musical  period, 
98,  99. 

Consonance,  art-method,  3  ;  in  har- 
mony, musical,  223-227  ;  poetical, 
59,  139,  156-162  ;  in  melody,  187  ; 
in  rhythm,  17,  59 ;  in  scale, 
188,  189 ;  why  necessary,  221- 
228. 

Contempt,  as  represented  in  music, 
294. 

Contentment,  as  represented  in 
music,  281,  286. 

Continuity,  art-method,  3  ;  in  har- 
mony of  poetry,  154,  155;  of 
music,  212  ;  of  rhythm,  57,  95. 

Contour,  5. 

Contrast,  art-method,  3 ;  between 
accented  and  unaccented  syllables, 

118,  119  ;    element  of   emphasis, 
140;  in  harmony  of  poetry,  117- 

119,  139,   147,   148  ;  of  music  in 
melody,  188  ;  in  rhythm,  16,  93. 


Contrast,  the  act  of,  represented  by 
inflections,  275. 

Convulsion,  as  represented  in  music, 
261. 

Coote,  C,  258. 

Coriolanus,  153. 

Correspondence,  principle  of,  in 
musical  representation,  233,  243, 
309,  310,  314  ;  in  conditions  and 
directions  of  pitch,  264-267,  272  ; 
in  quality,  294  ;  in  rhythm,  253, 
261. 

Correspondences,  between  arts  of 
sound  and  sight,  1-7,  107,  108  ; 
between  instruments  and  human 
voices,  91,  295  ;  poetical  and 
musical  divisions  of  time,  94-100  ; 
and  measures,  101,  102  ;  and  har- 
mony, 145  ;  between  couplets  and 
musical  sections,  98-100 ;  pitch 
and  quality  in  poetry  and  music, 
168-177. 

Corti's  Rods,  109. 

Cotterill,  65. 

Cotter's  Saturday  Night,  69. 

Coughing,  as  represented  in  music, 

279.  317. 

Counteraction,  art-method,  3  ;  in 
harmony,  musical,  188,  208;  po- 
etic, 118,  119,  150,  154,  159;  in 
rhythm,  16,  30,  38,  118  ;  in  scale, 
188. 

Couplet,  30,  57,  95  ;  like  musical 
sections,  98-100. 

Courage  as  represented  in  music, 
294,  296. 

Course  of  Time,  112. 

Cranch,  C.  P.  54. 

Crashaw,  R.  61. 

Crazy  Jane  Architecture,  237. 

Cristabel,  39. 

Criticism,  American,  iv-ix  ;  impor- 
tance of  philosophic,  ix  ;  its  ob- 
ject, iv.,  v, 

Crying,  as  represented  in  music,  282. 

Cymbals,  297. 

Dactyl  measure,   27,  31,  32,  34,  35, 

Danger,  as  represented  in  music,  287. 
Dante,  xvii,  71,  124,  129,  151,   236. 


INDEX. 


329 


Darwin,  245,  246. 

Davis,  T.,   174. 

Deceived  Lover,  The,  46,  47. 

Decision,   as  represented  in  music, 

266,  275-277,  286. 
Delight,    as   represented   in   music, 

294. 
Denner,  B.,  236. 
Depression,  as  represented  in  music, 

282,  302. 
Descent  of  Man,  245. 
Description  of  Wales,  125. 
Despair,  as  represented  in  music,  286. 
Determination,    as    represented    in 

music,  294,  296. 
Development    of     musical    motive, 

95-99- 

Dies  Irae,  32. 

Dignity,  as  represented  in  music, 
254,  258. 

Dimeter,  31,  47. 

Dionysius,  184  ;  praise  of,  84. 

Disappointment,  as  represented  in 
music,  289. 

Disapprobation,  as  represented  in 
music,  267. 

Discoursive  elocution,  252,  253  ; 
music,  254,  302. 

Dissonance,  art-method,  3  ;  in  har- 
mony, 159,  212  ;  in  rhythm,  59  ;  in 
scale,  188  ;  in  seventh  chord,  211. 

Distinct  intelligence,  why  not  con- 
veyed by  music,  240,  241,  247. 

Disturbance,  as  represented  in  music, 
261. 

Divisions  in  poetry  and  music  cor- 
respond, 94-100. 

Dobell,  S.,  41,  43. 

Dobson,  A.,  79. 

Dog,  as  represented  in  music,  315, 
279. 

Dominant  chord,  210,  211,  214,  215. 

Donders,  169. 

Don  Juan,  295. 

Dots  in  music,  93. 

Double  entendre,  as  represented  in 
music,  275. 

Double  measure,  in  poetry,  26-28  ; 
with  long  quantity,  effects  like 
straight  line,  58  ;  with  short,  like 
angles,  5S  ;  in  music,  101. 


Doubt,  as  represented  in  music,  260, 
267,  277,  308. 

Douglas,  125. 

Downward  movements  in  accent, 
57,  264-267  ;  in  music,  267-273, 
275,  277,  279,  286-290 ;  on  un- 
accented syllables,  172,  173. 

Dramatic  elocution,  252,  253;  music, 
254,  302,  321. 

Drum,  295,  297. 

Dryden,  33,  37,  135,  138. 

Duration,  art-method  of,  3  ;  effects 
upon  chicks  in  rhythmic  grouping, 
12,  13  ;  upon  poetic  and  musical 
rhythm,  1,6,  91,  108  ;  upon  rep- 
resentation in  elocution,  251-254  ; 
in  music,  254-263. 

Dwight,  J.  S.,  310. 

Earnestness,  as  represented  in  music, 
256. 

Ease  of  utterance,  underlying  poetic 
sound-arrangements,  114-117. 

Ecclesiastes,  43. 

Echoes,  65. 

Edinburgh  Review,  113. 

Education  of  Nature,  The,  Words- 
worth, 173. 

Effects,  harmony  of,  as  the  test  of 
beauty,  vii,  viii. 

Egyptian  music,  187. 

Eights,  metre  of,  62  ;  and  sevens, 
68  ;  and  sevens  and  fours,  65. 

Ejaculatory  expression,  252,  301. 

Elation,  as  represented  in  music,  302. 

Elegy  in  a  Country  Churchyard, 
Gray,  32. 

Elephant's  tread,  as  represented  in 
music,  299. 

Elevens,  metre  of,  64  ;  and  tens,  63. 

Eliot,  George,  131. 

Elliott,  E.,  56. 

Ellis,  A.  J.,  184. 

El  Magico  Prodigioso,  Calderon, 
124,  129,  151. 

Elocutionary  effects  which  underlie 
and  interpret  representative  effects 
in  music,  251-254,  264-267,  274, 
275,  280-282,  286,  291-295,  322. 

Emphasis,  elocutionary,  produced  by 
contrast,  140. 


33°   RHYTHM  AND  HARMONY  IN  POETRY  AND  MUSIC. 


Endings,  of  lines  of  verse,  double, 

46  ;  end-stopped,  50-52  ;  changes 

in  measures.  44-46  ;  feminine,  46; 

light,  51 ;  masculine,  46  ;  run-on, 

50-52  ;  weak,  51. 
Energy,  as  represented  in  music,  256. 
English,  as  a  medium  of  versification, 

23,  24  ;  its  verse-methods,  21-24. 
English  Versification,  79. 
Enoch  Arden,  118. 
Enthusiasm,  as  represented  in  music, 

270,  296. 
Envoy  to  Ballades,  etc.,  81,  82,  84. 
Envy,  Eldest  Born  of  Hell,  298. 
Epilogue,  Browning,  127. 
Epistle,  the  Fifth,  Dryden,  138  ;  to 

Arbuthnot,  Pope,  116. 
Equivocacy,  as  represented  in  music, 

275. 
Essay,  on  Criticism,  33  ;    on  Man, 

113,  114. 
Euphonious,  117. 
Euphony,  114,   115  ;    as  related  to 

the  sense,  116. 
Euphuism,  114. 
Evangeline,  113. 
Everett,  70. 
Excursion,  The,  50. 
Exhalation.     See  Breathing. 
Exhilaration,  as  represented  in  music, 

257 
Expression,    in    music,     dependent 

on  the  motive,  97,  233. 
Extension,  art-method,  I,  3,  6,  108. 
Exuberance,  as  represented  in  music, 

269. 

Fahrbach,  P.,  258. 

Fairie  Queene,  The,  69,  116,  126, 

130,  134,  151,  153,  154. 
Farragut,  Statue  of,  xxi. 
Faun,  Statue,  xiii. 
Faust,  C,  258. 

Faust,  opera,  296,  297  ;  poem,  51. 
Feast  of  Bacchus,  The,  44. 
Feeling,   as  represented  in   Art  of 

Music,  231,  241. 
Feet,  poetic,  kinds  of,   26-28,    54, 

101,   102 ;    compared   to   musical 

measures,  94-100.     See  Measures. 
Ferdinand  and  Elvira,  87. 


Fife,  295. 

Fifths,  consecutive,  214. 

Finality,  as  represented  in  music, 
266.     See  Conclusiveness. 

Fit  of  Rhyme  against  Rhyme,  137. 

Five  Hundred  Points  of  Good  Hus- 
bandry, 113. 

Flats,  signs  of,  in  music,  183,  184 ; 
keys  for,  205. 

Flight,  Motive  of,  Wagner,  261. 

Flute,  295. 

Flying-up,  as  represented  in  music, 
261  ;  flying-down,  261. 

Force,  in  poetic  and  musical  rhyth- 
mic expression,  5-7,  91,  108,  241; 
as  representative  in  elocution,  251, 
252,  254 ;  in  music,  256-263, 
302. 

Forging  Motive,  Wagner,  261. 

Form,  as  indicated  by  metrical  ar- 
rangement, 5  ;  as  influencing  in 
poetry  mind  and  memory,  113, 
114  ;  as  influenced  by  the  require- 
ments of  significance,  xvi-xxiii ; 
importance  of,  in  poetry,  111- 
117  ;  versus  significance  in  all  the 
arts,  232-237. 

Forms  of  Verse,  French,  73-84. 

French,  accent  on  words,  14;  allitera- 
tion, 123  ;  art,  xix  ;  assonance, 
128;  early,  translation  from,  128  ; 
poetic  diction,  23, 

Fretting,  as  represented  in  music, 
282. 

Fright,  as  represented  in  music,  294. 

Frothingham,  35. 

Fugue,  304. 

Gaimar,  G.,  123. 

Galatea,  298. 

Galop,  104,  257. 

Gamut,  162-164.     See  Scales. 

Garden  of  Cymodoce,  The,  148,  152. 

Gardiner,  262,  315,  319. 

Gazza,  Ladra,  317. 

Genesis  of  Art-Form,  The,  1,  2,  15- 
17,  20,  73,  100,  108,  no,  138, 
139,  142,  143,  153,  154,  156,  160, 
J63,  177,  185,  212,  213,  238,  292. 

Gentle  Contemplation,  as  repre- 
sented in  music,  294. 


INDEX. 


331 


Gentleness,  represented  in  music, 256 

Georgica,  150. 

German,  alliteration,  124;  assonance, 
129  ;  harmony  of  poetic  sounds, 
151,  161. 

German  Requiem,  304. 

Giants,  motive  of,  Wagner,  263. 

Gifts  of  God,  The,  45. 

Gilbert,  W.  T.,  23,  86-88,  134. 

Gilman,  B.  I.,  305. 

Gladstone,  113. 

Gliding  effect,  as  represented  in 
music,  259. 

God,  as  represented  in  music,  304. 

God's  Trouble,  The,  Motive  of, 
Wagner,  276. 

Goethe,  xiii,  xvii,  xix,  xxiii,  35,  51, 
124,  129,  151,  236. 

Goetz  von  Berlichingen,  xiii. 

Golden  Year,  The,  144,  158. 

Goose,  The,  152. 

Gosse,  E.  W.,  84. 

Gothic,  xiv  ;  cathedral,  297. 

Gotterdammerung,  Motive  of,  Wag- 
ner, 273  ;  opera  of,  278,  288,  290. 

Go  to  thy  Rest,  47. 

Goudimel,  190. 

Gounod,  296,  297. 

Go  Where  Glory  Waits  Thee,  32. 

Gracefulness,  as  represented  in 
music,  259. 

Gradation,  art-method,  3  ;  in  poetic 
harmony,  162-167 ',  in  musical, 
212-217  ;    in  rhythm   and  metre, 

59- 
Grand,  The,  as  represented  in  music, 

294. 
Grant,  63. 
Gratitude,  as  represented  in  music, 

303, 
Grave,  The,  as  represented  in  music, 

254. 

Gray,  32,  85. 

Greece,  23. 

Greek,  accent,  how  used,  22,  184  ; 
alliteration,  122;  assonance,  128; 
ideal  of  art,  xxiii  ;  intonation  of 
poetry,  184,  185  ;  lyre,  185  ;  reci- 
tative poetry,  29  ;  melodies,  184- 
186  ;  musical  harmony,  189,  193  ; 
musical  scales,  199-201,  203,  204, 


206  ;  poetic  harmony,  150  ;  rhyme, 
133;  singing,  189;  stanzas,  185, 
versification,  22,  23,  34. 

Greeks,  xi,  xii,  xiii,  268. 

Gregorian  chants,  derived  from 
methods  of  speech,  186,  187,  267, 
268. 

Gregory,  Pope,  186,  267. 

Grouping,  art-method,  3,  16,  53  ; 
correspondence  between  musical 
and  poetical,  94-100  ;  in  poetic 
harmony  about  central-point,  143; 
of  clicks  of  twos,  threes,  etc. ,  in 
rhythmic  experiments,  1 1 -1 5,  56; 
of  like  partial  effects  in  unlike 
complex  wholes,  53,  100,  117, 
121,  138,  176,  200,  209,  217,  228  ; 
of  syllables,  in  measures  and  lines, 
14-21. 

Growing  Twilight,  Motive  of,  Wag- 
ner, 276. 

Guido  of  Arezzo,  187,  188. 

Guitar,  297. 

Gurney,  246,  298. 

Halleck,  F.-G.,  42. 

Hallelujah  metre,  65. 

Hall,  J.  S.,  11. 

Hamlet,  165. 

Hammering  Motive,  Wagner,  261. 

Hammond,  E.  P.,  112. 

Handel,  298,  316. 

Harmonic  intervals,  215-220,  225  ; 
ratios  of,  219,  220. 

Harmony,  art-method,  1,3;  and  a 
lack  of  it  as  musically  representa- 
tive, 282-290  ;  as  distinguished 
from  rhythm  and  proportion,  108  ; 
developed  from  melody,  190-192, 
244 ;  from  methods  of  composi- 
tion, 107-120,  207-220  ;  from 
partial  tones,  208-210  ;  of  color 
and  sound  corresponding,  6,  108, 
109  ;  of  Greeks,  189  ;  of  major 
scale,  208  ;  of  music,  185-191  ;  of 
poetry,  107-177  ;  of  speech,  170- 
177  ;  modern,  developed  from 
polyphonic,  189-191 ;  physical 
and  psychical  reasons  for,  221- 
227  ;  similarly  produced  in  music 
and  poetry,  145,  146. 


332   RHYTHM  AND  HARMONY  IN  POETRY  AND  MUSIC. 


Harp,  as  representative,  297. 
Hastings,  63. 
Haweis,  H.  R.,  302. 
Hawtrey,  Dr.,  36. 
Haydn,  299,  315,  318. 
Healthfulness,    as     represented     in 

music,  281. 
Heber,  64. 

Hebrew     alliteration,      122  ;     asso- 
nance, 132  ;  parallelism,  29. 
Heginbotham,  62. 
Hell  and  Heaven,  48. 
Helmholtz,  Sensations  of  Tone,  91, 

169,  175,  184,  185,  193,  194,  198, 

201,  209,  244. 
Hen,  as  represented  in  music,  279, 

316. 
Henry,  IV.,  158  ;  V.,  43  ;  VI.,  116, 

157  ;  VIII.,  31,  130. 
Heptameter,  33,  48. 
Herbert,  Geo.,  45,  64,  132. 
Hermann  und  Dorothea,  35. 
Heroism,   as  represented  in   music, 

289. 
Hesitation,  as  represented  in  music, 

260,  308. 
Hexameter,    31,    32,    48  ;    English 

and  classic,  34-36. 
Higher  Pantheism,  The,  304. 
Hireman  Chiel,  Ballad  of,  131. 
Homer,  33,  34,   36,    122,    128,  133, 

150. 
Home,  Sweet  Home,  271. 
Hood,  T.,  66,  86,  87,  132. 
Hopefulness,  as  represented  in  music, 

270,  277,  286,  302. 
Hopelessness,     as     represented     in 

music,  282. 
Horror,    as    represented    in   music, 

294,  296. 
Hostility,   as  represented  in  music, 

294,  295. 
Hugo,  V.,  xii,  xiv,  123,  128  ;  sonnet 

on,  128. 
Humoreske,  97, 
Hunt,  L.,  174. 
Hymns,  different  forms  of  metre  of, 

61-68. 

Iambic  measure,  32,  33,  37,  61-66. 
Iambus,  27. 


Ibsen,  xxi. 

Iliad,  The,  36,  122,  128,  133,  150. 

II  Penseroso,  40,  113. 

Imitation,  in  elocution,  252,  253  ;  in 
music,  254  ;  in  pitch,  272,  273, 
279  ;  in  quality,  297-300 ;  in 
rhythm,  261-263 ;  in  series  of 
movements,  314-317.  See  Repre- 
sentation, under  head  of  Imitative. 

Imitative,  253,  302. 

Impeded,  The,  as  represented  in 
music,  282. 

Important,  The,  as  represented  in 
musical  rhythm,  254  ;  pitch,  266, 
267,  275,  286. 

Inartistic  effects,  of  alliteration,  as- 
sonance, rhyme,  how  prevented, 
136-167  ;  of  rhythm,  how  pre- 
vented, 38-52. 

Incongruity,  art-method,  3  ;  in  comic 
effects  of  rhythm,  86-89  ;  of  sound 
indicating  that  of  sense,  142  ;  in 
harmony,  212.     See  Congruity. 

Indecision,  as  represented  in  music, 
260,  266,  267,  275,  277,  286,  289, 

Independent,  The,  v,  ix,  235. 

Indifference,  as  represented  in  music, 
256. 

Indignation,  as  represented  in  music, 
294. 

Inflections,  meanings  of  downward 
and  upward,  265-67  ;  of  neither 
direction,  280-282  ;  of  wave  or 
circumflex,  274,  275. 

Ingoldsby  Legends,  88. 

Initial  Measure,  27,  28,  39,  40,  62- 

67. 

In  Memoriam,  62. 

Innuendo,  as  represented  in  music, 

270,  278. 
Insignificant,  The,  as  represented  in 

music,  266,  275,  286. 
Insolvable,    The,    as  represented  in 

music,  286. 
Instructive  methods   of   expression, 

252,  301-313. 
Instruments,  representation  in  music 

by,  91,  295. 
Intellectual  Influence  of  Music,  The 

310,  323. 
Interchange,  art-method,  3  ;  in  musi- 


INDEX. 


333 


cal  harmony,  190,  212-217  ;  in 
poetic,  1 59-161  ;  in  rhythm,  59  ; 
in  scales,  189. 

Interesting,  The,  as  represented  in 
music,  266,  267,  275,  286,  294. 

Interspersion,  art-method,  3  ;  in 
musical  harmony,  154  ;  in  poetic, 
212  ;  in  rhythm,  55,  95,  103. 

Intonation,  184-189,  233,  251  ;  as 
conveying  meaning,  243. 

Iolanthe,  300. 

Iphigenie  auf  Taurus,  xiii,  xv,  151. 

Ireland,  33,  174. 

Irony,  as  represented  in  music,  275, 
278. 

Italian,  alliteration,  124  ;  assonance, 
129  ;  verse-harmony,  151  ;  son- 
neteers, 71  ;  sonnets,  72. 

Jonson,  B.,  137. 

Journal   of    Psychology,    American, 

II.  305. 
Joy,   as  represented  in  music,  254, 

269,  281,  286,  297,  303. 

Keats,  69,  71,  72. 

Kenilworth,  43. 

Key,  96,  108,  143,  211,  283  ;  mean- 
ing of  musical,  205  ;  transitions 
from  one  musical,  to  another,  160, 
214-217  ;  from  major  to  minor, 
216,  218. 

Keynote,  205,  211,  283  ;  analogies  to 
musical,  in  poetic  harmony,  143- 

145. 
King  Lear,  158. 
Kobbe,  G.,  255. 
Kosciusko,  To,  72. 
Kyrielle,  78. 

La  Estrella  de  Sevilla,  124,  129. 

L' Allegro,  155. 

Lamb,  Mary,  47. 

Lament,  A,  64. 

Lamentations,  122. 

Langland,  125. 

Language  of  Music,  321,  332. 

Lanier,  S.,  51,  138. 

La  Nuit  d'Octobre,   151. 

Lasso,  190. 

Last  Rose  of  Summer,  The,  100. 


Latin,  34  ;  alliteration,  123  ;  asso- 
nance, 128 ;  harmony  of  poetic 
sounds,  150.     See  Roman. 

Laughter,  in  music,  316. 

Layamon,  129,  133. 

Lay  of  the  Imprisoned  Huntsman, 
The,  32. 

Lay  of  the  Last  Minstrel,  The,  113. 

Leiden  des  jungen  Werther's,  xiii, 
xv. 

Le  Sacre  de  Charles  X.,  128. 

L'Estorie  des  Engles,  123. 

Lessing,  xxiii. 

Le  13  Julliet,  123. 

Les  Vierges  de  Vordun,  123. 

Letty's  Globe,  73. 

Light  and  Shade,  5,  7,  108. 

Lightness  of  Mood,  as  represented 
by  music,  254. 

Like,  effects  necessary  to  congruity 
in  quality  and  pitch,  179,  180  ; 
effects  of  sound  as  indicating  like 
thoughts,  139-143,  153  ;  partial 
effects  of  unlike  complex  wholes 
are  at  the  basis  of  all  art-unity, 
and  grouping,  53,  100,  117,  121, 
138,  176,  177,  200,  209,  217,  228; 
sounds  follow  in  syllables  only 
when  both  are  accented,  n 8-1 20. 

Lille,  R.  de,  272. 

Lines  of  Verse,  corresponding  to 
musical  phrases,  94,  95,  100  ;  end- 
stopped,  and  run-on,  50-52  ;  in- 
fluence of  their  length  on  tunes  of 
verse,  61,  173,  174;  length  of, 
determined  by  time  of  exhalations, 
14,  15,  28,  30 ;  massing  of,  in 
stanzas,  57-88  ;  representation  of 
slowness  and  rapidity  in,  60,  61  ; 
variety  as  introduced  into,  38-52, 
61-88. 

Liszt,  312. 

Literature,  as  influenced  by  low  con- 
ceptions of  the  importance  of 
significance,  xvii,  xviii,  xxi-xxiii. 

Lockhart,  41,  42. 

Locksley  Hall,  24,  48. 

Loge,  Motive  of,  Wagner,  255,  276, 
279. 

Long  common  metre,  66. 

Longfellow,  32,  35,  45,  47,  65,  165. 


334   RHYTHM  AND  HARMONY  IN  POETRY  AND  MUSIC. 


Long  metre,  62,  86. 

Longmuir,  Dr.,  125,  140,  141. 

Loudness  determined  by  amplitude 
of  vibrations,  196. 

Lovelace,  Ballad  of,  82. 

Love-Death,  Motive  of,  Wagner, 
256. 

Love  of  Life,  Motive  of,  Wagner, 
277. 

Lover,  S.,  47. 

Love's  Fascination,  Motive  of,  Wag- 
ner, 277, 

Lowell,  88. 

Lyre  of  Greek,  or  Orpheus,  200,  202. 

Lyte,  H.  T.,  63. 

Macbeth,  142,  166. 

MacCarthy,  D.  F.,  33,  174. 

Magic  Flute,  The,  318. 

Major,  cadence,  282,  285  ;  chord, 
215-220,225;  representative  effect 
of  its  cadence,  282,  283,  286-290  ; 
scale,  200,  204,  206. 

Malignity,  as  represented  in  music, 

295. 

Marbode,  L.  de,  128. 

March  music,  104. 

Marco  Bozzaris,  42. 

Marie  Stuart,  poem,  124,  129. 

Marmion,  poem,  33. 

Marseillaise  Hymn,  258,  272. 

Massing,  art-method,  3,  in  harmony, 
musical,  212  ;  poetic,  153  ;  in 
rhythm,  musical,  95  ;  poetic,  55. 

Mathews,  W.  S.  B.,  96,  98,  104. 

Matthews,  B.,  81. 

Maud,  poem,  127,  131. 

Mazeppa,  poem,  33. 

McCarthy,  J.  H.,  75. 

McMaster,  G.  H.,  57. 

McMonnies,  xxi. 

Measure  for  Measure,  drama,  112, 
126. 

Measures,  correspondence  of  effects 
to  those  of  shape,  57-59  ;  differ- 
ence between  musical  and  poetical, 
92-95  ;  influence  of,  on  tunes  of 
verse,  61,  172-174  ;  kinds  of,  in 
music,  101,  102,  in  poetry,  26-28, 
60-89  ;  representation  in,  28,  57- 
61 ;  variety,  as  introduced  in,  38- 


52,  61-88  ;  why  eight  kinds 
needed  in  poetry,  102,  103. 

Median  Measure,  27. 

Medley,  66. 

Meeting  of  the  Ships,  The,  39. 

Meistersinger,  297. 

Melody,  developed  before  harmony, 
184-188,  190-192,  244  ;  Greek, 
184-186  ;  in  speech,  170-177  ; 
music  and  poetic,  similar,  100,  172. 

Memory,  as  helped  by  alliteration 
and  assonance,   141  ;  by  euphony, 

113. 

Menace,  as  represented  in  music, 
295  ;  Motive  of,  Wagner,  287. 

Mendelssohn,  249. 

Merchant  of  Venice,  113,  156. 

Merkel,  170. 

Metre,  origin  of,  244.  See  Meas- 
ures. 

Mildness,  as  represented  in  music, 
256. 

Milkmaid's  Song,  The,  41. 

Mill  Garden,  The,  48. 

Milton  xvii,  21,  31,  40,  42,  49,  50, 
55,  7i,  112,  113,  115,  117,  125, 
149,  155,  160,  166,  167. 

Mind,  as  represented  in  art,    231- 

?33- 

Ministerial  Tone,  as  representative, 

282. 
Minnesingers  of  Germany,  133. 
Minor,    cadence,    282,     285,    286  ; 

chord,  215,    216,   218,    219,  222, 

225  ;   representative  effect  of  its 

cadence,  282,  285,  286-290 ;  scale, 

200,  204,  206. 
Minuet,  258. 
Mirthfulness,    as     represented     in 

music,  254. 
Misery,   as  represented    in    music, 

282. 
Miss  Kilmansegg  and  Her  Precious 

Leg,  87. 
Moaning,  as  represented  in  music, 

282. 
Moan,  Moan,  Ye  Dying  Gales,  66. 
Mockery,  as  represented  in  music, 

275,    278  ;    Motive   of,    Wagner, 

278. 
Modulation  in  harmony,  212-217, 


INDEX. 


335 


Monastery,  from  the  novel,  130, 
157. 

Monk's  Tale,  The,  69. 

Monometer,  31,  46. 

Montgomery,  64,  66. 

Moore,  G.,  82;  T.,  32,  65,  262,  263, 
271. 

Mors  et  Vita,  76. 

Mother  Goose's  Melodies,  90. 

Mother's  Love,  A.,  47. 

Motive  in  music,  94-99,  233,  243  ; 
development  of,  96-99  ;  its  chief 
factor  rhythm,  96,  97  ;  its  repre- 
sentative    and     expressional     in- 
fluence,     97,       276 ;      Wagner's 
employment    of,    319-321  ;    that 
termed  the   motive  of   Alberich's 
Cry,  286  ;  Bird,  299  ;  Flight,  261  ; 
Giants,  263  ;  God's  Trouble,  276  ; 
Gotterdammerung,  273  ;  Growing 
Twilight,  276  ;  Hammering,  261  ; 
Loge,   255,  276,   279  ;    Love  of 
Life,    277  ;      Love-Death,     256 ; 
Love's  Fascination,  277;  Menace, 
287  ;  Mockery,  278  ;  Murder,  288; 
Nornes,  273;  Phrase  of  Nothung, 
290 ;    Pursuit,    277 ;   Question  to 
Fate,  269  ;  Rainbow,  273  ;  Resig- 
nation,    308  ;    Rhinegold,    286 
Right  of  Expiation,  288  ;  Rising 
Treasure,    273  ;  Siegfried,    288 
Sieglinde,  289  ;  Shout  of  Fairies 
278  ;  Snake,    262 ;    Storm,   298 
Sword,   286  ;  Sword's  Guardian 
287  ;  Thoughtfulness,  288  ;  Tris 
tan,  289;  Vindictive  League,  288 
Walkiire,   261  ;    Walsungen  Fam- 
ily, 289  ;  World's  Heritage,  287. 

Movement,  similarity  of,  in  music 
and  poetry,  100,  172. 

Mozart,  238,  295,  316,  318. 

Muhlenberg,  63. 

M tiller,  M.,  304. 

Mulock,  D.  M.,  96. 

Murder,  Motive  of,  Wagner,  288. 

Music,  alphabet  of,  322  ;  cadence 
in,  210,  211,  282-286  ;  correspond- 
ence of,  to  other  arts,  4-7  ;  de- 
veloped from  song  and  speech, 
91  ;  distinguished  from  poetry, 
91-96;  from  speech,  91,  175-177, 


241,  242  ;  Greek,  184,  185,  189 ; 
history  of,  184-190  ;  language  of 
321,  322  ;  of  middle  ages,  189- 
191 ;  measures  in,  92-95  ;  notation, 
93-95.  181-184  ;  notes,  as  dis- 
tinguished from  words,  92,  171- 
175  ;  241,  242  ;  measures  in, 
92-95, 101-103  ;  polyphonic,  189, 
190  ;  program,  312,  313  ;  repre- 
sentation of  mind  and  nature  in, 
232,  233,  235,  241-243,  247,  248  ; 
rhythm  in,  90-106  ;  what  it  repre- 
sents, 241,  243,  247,  248 — see 
Representation ;  why  it  does  not 
convey  definite  intelligence,  240, 
241,  244,  245,  247,  248. 

Musical  expressiveness,  305  ;  nota- 
tion applied  to  poetry,  40-42.  See 
Music. 

Music  and  Morals,  Haweis,  302. 

Music  as  a  Representative  Art,  xv, 
97,  171,  231-323. 

Music  of  Nature,    The,    262,    315, 

319. 
Musset,  A.  de,  123,  128,  151. 

Nathan  Hale,  statue  of,  xxi. 
Nation,  The,  vi,  xi,  235. 
Natural,  sign  of  note,  184. 
Nature,  as  represented  in  art,  231- 

233  ;  in  music,  232,  235,  241-243, 

247,  248. 
Neele,  H.,  66. 
Negation,  as  represented  in  music, 

266,  275,  286. 
Neugriechische  Liebe-Skelien,  129. 
Newton,  63. 
Nibelung,  Ring  of,  255. 
Nightingale,  316. 
Nine  Years  Old,  poem,  47. 
Niobe,  Group  of,   xiii. 
Noble,  The,    as    inspiring    music, 

294. 
Nocturnal  Sketch,  132. 
Noise,  as  distinguished  from  music, 

194,  195,  198,  226. 
Nonsense  Rhymes,  88,  115. 
Nornes,  Motive  of,  Wagner,  273. 
Norton,  C.  E.,  33. 
Notation.     See  Music. 
Notes.     See  Music. 


336  RHYTHM  AND  HARMONY  IN  POETRY  AND  MUSii 


Noteworthy,  The,  as  represented  in 

music,  266,  267,  275. 
Novellette,  Schumann's,  96. 

Observations  in  Physiology  of  Spinal 

Cord,  10. 
Octave,    181,    196,    198,    199,    202, 

214. 
Octaves,  consecutive,  214. 
Octometer,  33,  48. 
Ode,  The,  84,  85. 
Ode  on  Imitations  of  Immortality, 

85. 
Old  Continentals,  The,  57. 
On  the  Cliffs,  142. 
Oratorios,  299. 

Orator's  Manual,  97,  251,  265. 
Orchestral,   why  adds  to  enjoyment 

of  vocal  music,  179. 
Order,  art-method,  3  ;  in  harmony, 

musical,     189-208;    poetic,    114, 

116  ;  in  rhythm,  15,  92. 
Organ,  295,  296  ;  keys  on,  204-206. 
Organic   form,    art-method,    3  ;    in 

harmony,   musical,    211  ;    poetic, 

120  ;  in  rhythm,  20. 
Orpheus,  lyre  of,  200,  202. 
Orotund  quality,  293,  294,  296,  297. 
O  ruddier  than  a  cherry,  298. 
Othello,  113,  142. 
Ott,  Isaac,  10. 
Outlines,  4. 

Paganini,  319. 

Painting,  correlated  to  other  arts,  4- 
7;  compared  to  poetry,  no;  in- 
jured by  a  low  conception  of 
significance  in  art,  xviii,  xix,  xxii, 
xxiii  ;  representation  in,  234  ; 
significance  and  form  both  need 
considering,  236. 

Palmer,  J.  W.,  31,  173. 

Palestrina,  190,  191. 

Pantoum,  78,  79. 

Paradise  Lost,  31,  42,  49,  117,  125, 
126,  130,  145,  149,  160,  166,  167. 

Paradise  Regained,  112,  115, 

Parallelism,  art-method,  3  ;  Greek, 
29  ;  Hebrew,  29  ;  in  the  couplet, 
57,  95  ;  in  harmony,  musical,  189, 
190,   191,    211,  212;  poetic,   146, 


148,  149,  150,  154;  in  rhymes, 
146  ;  in  rhythm,  30,  57,  95. 

Parodie,  A.,  64. 

Parsons,  J.  C.,  79. 

Partial,  like,  effects  in  art  in  unlike 
complex  wholes,  53,  100,  117, 
121,  138,  176,  177,  200,  209,  217, 
228  ;  tones,  as  developed  in  har- 
mony, 208-210  ;  as  related  to  har- 
monics, major  and  minor,  217- 
219,  285  ;  to  poetic  sounds,  169  ; 
what  they  are,  198,  199. 

Passion,  as  represented  in  music,  317. 

Pastoral  Symphonies,  299. 

Pathetic,  as  represented  in  music, 
282. 

Pauses  to  breathe  and  rhythm,  29 ; 
between  poetic  lines,  14,  15,  28  ; 
musical  phrases,  94,  95. 

Payne,  J.  H.,  271  ;  J.,  77,  76,  79, 
83. 

Peaceful  Contemplation,  as  repre- 
sented in  music,  296. 

Pectoral  Quality  of  Voice,  293,  294, 
298,  296. 

Pensive,  The,  as  represented  in  mu- 
sic, 308. 

Pentameter,  31-33,  37,  42  ;  of  blank 
verse,  42,  45,  63. 

Peri,  G.,  186. 

Peril,  as  represented  in  music,  295. 

Period,  musical,  98,  99 ;  corre- 
sponding to  poetic  stanza,  98-100, 
105. 

Petrarch,  71. 

Philip,  my  king,  96. 

Philosophic  study  of  art,  necessity 
of,  iv,  v,  ix. 

Phonetic  Gradation  in  Vowels,  163, 
164  ;  syzygy,  157. 

Phrase,  musical,  98,  99,  105  ;  corre- 
sponding to  poetic  line,  100. 

Phrase  of  Nothung,  Motive  of,  Wag- 
ner, 290. 

Physiological  effects  of  musical 
rhythm,  10,  n  ;  of  harmony, 
221-228. 

Physiologie  der  Menschlichen 
Sprache,  170. 

Pianoforte,  keys  and  note,  204- 
206,  2Q7. 


INDEX. 


337 


Pied  Piper  of  Hamelin,  The,  143. 

Pinafore,  23,  88. 

Pindar,  85. 

Pindaric  ode,  85. 

Pitch,  1,  5,  7,  57,  58,  91,  108  ;  anal- 
ogy between  its  use  in  music  and 
poetry,  168,  175-177,  180,  241; 
as  used  differently  in  each,  180  ; 
causes  of  different  degrees  of,  109  ; 
elocutionary  use  of  it,  251-253, 
264-267,  274,  275,  280,  281  ;  like 
effects  of,  necessary  in  melody 
and  harmony,  176-220  ;  produced 
by  vibrations,  109, 195-198;  repre- 
sentative, 251-254,  264-290;  use 
of  word  in  arts  of  sound,  5,6; 
vowel-pitch,  169,  17O0 

Plato,  303. 

Poe,  31,  46,  54,  56,  132,  160,  167. 

Poet,  The,  149. 

Poetic  Measures,  distinguished  from 
musical,  91-96. 

Poetry  as  a  Representative  Art,  4, 
17,  28,  34,  44,  97,  102,  103,  136, 
137,  169,  242,  251,  257. 

Poetry,  compared  to  painting,  sculp- 
ture, and  other  arts,  4-7,  no  ; 
classic,  21-23  ;  distinguished  from 
music,  91-96  ;  English  as  a  lan- 
guage for,  23,  24  ;  form  important 
in,  IH-117;  Greeks  intoned,  184; 
grew  out  of,  intonation,  243,  244  ; 
harmony  in,  107-177  ;  necessity 
of  regarding  both  form  and  sig- 
nificance in,  xvii.-xix,  xxi-xxiii, 
236  ;  representation  in,  234 ; 
rhythm  in,  8-89,  102. 

Pointing,  as  represented  in  music, 
by  use  of  pitch,  away,  266,  274, 
275 ;  to,  266,  274,  275. 

Polka,  104,  259. 

Pollock,  112. 

Polocca,  259. 

Polonaise,  104,  105. 

Polyphonic  Music,  189, 190. 

Pope,  33,  105,  113,  116,  141. 

Positive,  The,  as  represented  in  mu- 
sic, 266,  267,  270,  272,  275,  276, 
286. 

Potpourris,  105. 

Power  of  Sound,  The,  246,  260,  298. 


Practical,  as  connected  with  philo- 
sophic study  of  art,  iv,  v,  ix. 

Praed,  W.  M.,  55. 

Praise  of  Dionysius,  84. 

Prelude,  The,  130. 

Presentative  Arts,  232. 

Prime  tones,  169,  198. 

Principality,  art-method,  3  ;  in  har- 
mony, musical,  190,  211  ;  poetic, 
120 ;  in  rhythm,  17-19,  54,  55, 
93;  in  series  of  alliterations  and 
assonances,  143. 

Primer  of  Musical  Terms,  96,  98, 
104. 

Princess,  The,  299. 

Progress,  art-method,  3  ;  in  har- 
mony, musical,  212-217  ;  poetic, 
162,  166  ;  in  rhythm,  59-61  ;  slow 
and  fast,  as  indicated  by,  59-61. 

Progress  of  Poetry,  The,  85. 

Proportion,  1,  6,  7  ;  as  distinguished 
from  harmony,  108  ;  and  analo- 
gous to  rhythm,  108. 

Protestant  Church  and  the  Rise  of 
Harmony,  190. 

Psalm  of  Life,  The,  45,  165. 

Psychological  Reasons  for  effects  of 
musical  harmony,  221-228. 

Psychology,    American   Journal  of, 

II.  305. 
Pure    Quality  of  Voice,    293,    294, 

296,  297. 
Purgatorio,  124,  129,  151. 
Pursuit,  Motive  of,  Wagner,  277. 
Pythagoras,  his  scale,  187,  196,  203, 

206. 

Quadruple  Measure,  28  ;  with 
double,  for  comic  effects,  88. 

Quality,  I,  3,  5,  6,  7,  91,  108  ;  elo- 
cutionary, representing  what,  252, 
291-294 ;  emotive  effects  repre- 
sented by,  281,  292-294;  causes 
of  difference  in  tone,  180, 181,  193- 
198  ;  like  effects  of,  necessary  in 
chords  and  orchestras,  179 ; 
term,  as  used  in  arts  of  sight  and 
sound,  5,  6  ;  uses  of,  in  music 
and  poetry,  168-197,  241. 

Quantity,  as  the  basis  of  rhythm,  18  ; 
of  versification,  21-23  \  m  Greek 


338   RHYTHM  AND  HARMONY  IN  POETRY  AND  MUSIC. 


and   English  poetry,  21-24.     See 
Duration. 
Queen  Anne  Style  of  Architecture, 

237. 

Questionable,  The,  as  represented  in 
music,  266,  267,  269,  275,  286, 
289. 

Question  to  Fate,  Motive  of,  Wag- 
ner, 269. 

Rainbow,  Motive  of,  Wagner,  273. 

Rainy  Day,  The,  65. 

Raphael,  xvii,  xix,  236. 

Rapidity  of  movement,  how  repre- 
sented, in  music,  254-263  ;  in 
verse,  59-61, 

Rationale  of  Verse,  The,  54. 

Ratios  in  consonance,  187  ;  in  major 
and  also  in  minor  chords,  219, 
220  ;  in  musical  scales,  201-206  ; 
in  partial  tones,  197. 

Raven,  The,  132,  161. 

Realization,  as  represented  in  music, 
272. 

Recitative,  185,  186. 

Recitatives,  237. 

Recitativos,  186. 

Reflective  method  of  expression, 
252,  302. 

Reformation,  Protestant,  its  influ- 
ence on  rise  of  harmony,  190. 

Refrain,  The,  in  music  and  poetry, 

95,  96. 

Regularity,  of  accent  as  representa- 
tivein  music,  257-260  ;  of  metre  in 
verse,  49,  50  ;  of  rhythm  in  music, 
257,  258. 

Religious,  The,  as  represented  in 
music,  308. 

Repetition,  art-method,  3  ;  in  har- 
mony, musical,  188,212;  poetical, 
139,  147,  148,  150;  in  rhythm,  17, 
25,  38,  55  ;  in  intonation  and  tone, 
187  ;  in  scale,  188  ;  producing  an 
effect  of  likeness  in  thought,  139- 

143,  153.  . 
Representation,  associative  and  imi- 
tative, 242-244,  251-254,  301-320; 
by  analogy  in  poetry  and  music, 
309,  310  ;  of  mind  and  nature  go 
together,  231,  232  ;  of  mind  and 


nature  by  music,  232,  241,  243, 
247,  248  ;  of  series  of  emotions 
by  musical  series,  303-317 ;  of 
thought  and  feeling,  231  ;  of 
thought  and  feeling  by  the  har- 
monic and  inharmonic  interval 
and  cadence,  281-286  ;  of  thought 
by  euphonious  and  non-euphonious 
words,  116  ;  melodic,  historically 
shown,  268  ;  modern  melodies  as 
manifesting,  268,  269 ;  through 
elocutionary  elements,  243,  244, 
250-254 ;  through  elocutionary 
duration,  254  ;  through  elocution- 
ary force,  256  ;  through  elocution- 
ary pitch,  264-267,  274  ;  through 
elocutionary  quality,  291-294 ; 
through  elocutionary  rhythm,  243, 
244,  256,  257  ;  through  music, 
237-322  ;  through  musical  pitch, 
264-290  ;  through  musical  quality, 
291-297  ;  through  musical  rhythm, 
including  duration  and  pitch,  254- 
263  ;  when  associative,  musically 
indicating  accomplishment,  297  ; 
admiration,  294,  296  ;  affirmation, 

266,  270,  275,  286  ;  amazement, 
294  ;  anticipation,  266,  269-272, 
275-277  ;  286,  289,  296  ;  appro- 
bation, 267  ;  awe,  294  ;  buoyancy, 
257,  270,  281;  certainty,  276: 
complaining,  282 ;  conclusiveness, 

267,  270,  271,  275-277,  286,  289 ; 
confidence,  258  ;  contempt,  294  ; 
courage,  294,  296  ;  crying,  282  ; 
danger,  287  ;  decision,  266,  275- 
277,  286  ;  depression,  282,  302 ; 
despair,  286  ;  determination,  294, 
296 ;  dignity,  254-258  ;  disap- 
pointment, 289  ;  disapprobation, 
267  ;  disturbance,  261  ;  double- 
entendre,  275  ;  doubt,  260-267, 
277,  303 ;  earnestness,  256;  elation, 
302  ;  energy,  256 ;  enthusiasm,  270, 
296;  equivocacy,  275 ;  exhilaration, 
257  ;  exuberance,  269  ;  finality, 
266  ;  fretting,  282  ;  fright,  294  ; 
gentle  contemplation,  256,  294 ; 
God,  304  ;  gratitude,  303  ;  gravity, 
254  ;  healthfulness,  281  ;  heroism, 
289  ;  hesitation,  260,  308  ;  hope- 


INDEX. 


339 


fulness,  270,  277,  286,  302  ;  hope- 
lessness, 2S2  ;  horror,  294,  296  ; 
hostility,  294,  295  ;  indecision, 
266,  267,  275,  277,  286,  289  ; 
indifference,  256  ;  indignation, 
294  ;  innuendo,  275-278  ;  insig- 
nificant, 266,  275,  286  ;  insolvable, 
286 ;  interesting,  266,  267,  275, 
286,  294  ;  joy,  254,  269,  281,  286, 
297»  3°3  >  lightness  of  mood,  254  ; 
mildness,  256  ;  mirthfulness,  254  ; 
misery,  282  ;  moaning,  282  ;  mur- 
der, 288  ;  noteworthy,  266,  267, 
275  ;  passion,  317  ;  peaceful  con- 
templation, 296  ;  peril,  295  ; 
questionable,  266,  267,  269,  275, 
286 ,  289  ;  rapidity,  254-263  ;  re- 
alization, 272  ;  rest,  270 ;  sar- 
casm, 275,  278,  286  ;  sadness,  282  ; 
satire,  275,  278  ;  satisfaction,  281- 
290 ;  scenes  in  nature,  clouds, 
moons,  waves,  woods,  etc.,  303- 
309 ;  self-assertion,  256 ;  self- 
control,  309  ;  self-poise,  258  ; 
seriousness,  254-308  ;  size,  256  ; 
solemnity,  296-308  ;  solicitude, 
294 ;  strength,  256  ;  sublimity, 
308  ;  subordination,  266,  275,  286; 
suspense,  280,  282,  286,  287 ; 
triumph,  258  ;  turmoil,  261  ;  un- 
certainty,   276  ;  unimpeded,   the, 

281  ;  unsatisfactory,  282-290  ;  ve- 
hemence, 256  ;  victory,  296  ; 
weakness,  256,  281,  282  ;  worship, 
308  ;  yielding,  259  ;  when  imita- 
tive, musically  indicating  battles, 
297  ;  beasts'  tread,  299 ;  birds, 
279,  297,  299,  307  ;  buzz  of  in- 
sects, 299  ;  complaining,  282  ; 
crying,  282  ;  coughing,  279,  317  ; 
conflict,  303-309  ;  dog,  279  ; 
elephant,  299  ;  gracefulness,  259  ; 
gliding,  259  ;  hammering,  261  ; 
hen,  279,  316 ;  hesitation,  260, 
308  ;    laughter,    316  ;     moaning, 

282  ;  rapidity,  254-263  ;  rising, 
273  ;  rustling  of  leaves,  299  ; 
sinking,    273  ;    storm,    261,    297, 

299  ;  sleigh-ride,  297  ;  slowness, 
254-263  ;  turmoil,    261  ;  wailing, 

300  ;   whips,  297  ;   whistles,  297  ; 


wind,  2)7  ;  yawning,  279  ;  yearn- 
ing, 289.  See  Quality  of  musical 
instruments,  294-300. 

Representative  influence,  of  musical 
motive,  97  ;  of  poetic  measures, 
28,  102. 

Resignation,  poem,  161  ;  Motive  of, 
in  Music,  308. 

Responsive  methods  of  expression, 
as  in  poetry,  painting,  and  sculp- 
ture, 234. 

Rest,  as  represented  in  music,  270. 

Rests,  musical,  93,  94. 

Resultant  notes  formed  by  beats  in 
music,  224-226. 

Reverence,  as  represented  in  music, 
308. 

Rhetoric,  Aristotle's,  29  ;  Bain's, 
116. 

Rhinegold,  Motive  of,  Wagner,  286  ; 
opera  of,  255,  261-263,  273,  276, 
277,  286,  288. 

Rhythm  and  Harmony  in  Poetry  and 
Music,  1-228. 281,  285. 

Rhythm,  art-method,  1-3,  6,  7  ;  an 
artistic  end  in  itself,  10,  90,  91  ; 
basis  in  measures,  not  quantity  or 
numbers  of  syllables,  but  accent, 
17,  18  ;  connection  between,  and 
tune  in  music,  253,  254 ;  also  in 
poetry,  61,  172-174;  defined,  53  ; 
effects  distinguished  from  those  of 
harmony,  and  likened  to  those  of 
proportion,  108  ;  effects  likened 
to  those  of  tone,  222,  223  ;  ex- 
periments to  prove  mental  origin 
of,  11-13  ;  forming  groups  of 
clicks,  11-13  ;  including  duration 
and  force,  6,  21,  253,  257  ;  in 
music,  90-106  ;  in  nature,  9,  10  ; 
in  nervous  action,  10  ;  in  poetry, 
1-89  ;  in  poetry  as  distinguished 
from  music,  91-96 ;  in  poetry, 
caused  by  accent,  20  ;  in  prose, 
20;  main  factor  of  musical  motives, 
96,  97  ;  methods  of  indicating,  suf- 
ficient for  our  music,  106  ;  musical 
ear  not  necessary  for  appreciation 
of,  105,  106  ;  origin  of,  8,  248  ; 
primitive,  8  ;  representation  in, 
256-263 ;       when     regular      and 


340  RHYTHM  AND  HARMONY  IN  POETRY  AND  MUSIC. 


strongly  accented,  257,  258  ;  when 
unusually  accented,  259 ;  when 
varied  and  slightly  accented,  260. 

Rhythmic  and  Metric  of  the  Classic 
Languages,  The,  22,  29. 

Rhythmic  possibilities  of  different 
forms  of  verse,  60-89. 

Rhyme,  121,  131-135.  145.  148, 
162,  176 ;  effects  of,  133-135  ; 
emphasized  by  change  in  the  num- 
ber of  syllables  regularly  ending 
lines,  45  ;  first  use  in  English, 
133  ;  laws  of,  133-135  ;  near  to- 
gether give  an  effect  of  rapidity, 
60 ;  objections  to  use  of  it,  136, 
137;  parallelism  of  effect  increased 
by,  146 ;  Roman  and  Greek  use 
of,  accidental,  133  ;  when  origi- 
nated, 133. 

Richard  II.,  126,  130,  157;  III., 
.157,  158. 

Right  of  Expiation,  Motive  of,  Wag- 
ner, 288. 

Ring  of  the  Nibelung,  255. 

Rising  up,  as  represented  in  music, 

273- 
Rising  Treasure,  273. 
Rogers,  J.  D.,  303. 
Romans,  186,  268. 
Romanticism  and  classicism,  x-xv. 
Roman  Versification,  22-24. 
Romeo  and  Juliet,  113,  157. 
Rondeau,  75. 

Rondeau  Redouble,  76,  77. 
Rondel,  74,  75. 
Rossini,  296. 
Roundel,  75,  76. 
Rubens,  xix,  236. 
Rustling   of  leaves,  as   represented 

in  music,  299. 
Rymours  of  Normandy,  133. 

Sachs,  H.,  297. 

Sadness,  as  represented  in  music,  282 

Sarcasm,  as  represented  in   music, 

275,  278.  > 
Sardau,  xviii. 
Satire,  as  represented  in  music,  275, 

278. 
Satisfaction,  as  represented  in  music, 

281-290. 


Scale,  the  musical,  181-187  ;  and 
phonetic  gradation,  164  ;  Chinese, 
203  ;  formation  of  Greek,  185- 
188,  193,  199-201,  203,  204,  206; 
major,  200,  206,  208  ;  minor,  200, 
206,  names  of  notes  of,  187,  188  ; 
Pythagorean,  187,  203,  206  ;  tem- 
perate, 205,  206  ;  why  the  notes 
are  pitched  as  they  are,  199-206. 

Schiller,  xvii,  xxiii,   124,  129,   161, 

235. 

Schmidt,  22,  29. 

Schnoor,  J.,  236. 

Schopenhauer,  303. 

Schumann,  96,  97,  248,  303. 

Science  of  English  verse,  51. 

Scott,  Sir  W.,  32,  33,  43,  56,  105. 
113,  130,  155,  157. 

Sculpture,  as  influenced  by  disre- 
gard of  significance,  xix-xxii  ; 
correlated  to  other  arts,  4-7  ; 
compared  to  poetry,  no. 

Section,  musical,  98,  100  ;  corre- 
sponding to  poetic  couplet,  98- 
100. 

Self-assurance,  as  represented  in 
music,  256. 

Self-control,  as  represented  in  music, 
309. 

Self-poise,  as  represented  in  music, 
258. 

Sensations  of  tone,  as  a  physiological 
basis  for  the  theory  of  musical, 
170,  184,  194,  201,  244. 

Sense,  as  represented  by  sound,  116, 

153. 

September,  75. 

Series  of  emotions,  as  represented  in 
music,  303-315. 

Seriousness,  as  represented  in  music, 
254,  308. 

Sestina,  82,  83. 

Setting,  art-method,  3  ;  in  harmony, 
musical,  212  ;  poetic,  114  ;  in 
rhythm,  19. 

Sevens  and  sixes  metre,  68. 

Sevens  metre,  62. 

Sevens,  sixes,  and  eights  metre,  68. 

Seventh,  chord  of,  211,  218  ;  repre- 
sentative effects  of,  283-290. 

Shakespeare,    31,   43,   51,   52,   112, 


INDEX. 


341 


113,  116,  126,  130,  133.  137,  152, 
153*  156-158,  165,  166  ;  his  use 
of  run-on  lines,  51,  52. 

Sharp,  musical  sign  of,  183,  184  ; 
notes  for,  205. 

Shelley,  64,  132. 

Short  metre,  61  ;  hallelujah,  65. 

Shout  of  Fairies,  Motive  of,  Wagner, 
278. 

Sicilian  Octave,  83. 

Siegfried,  opera  of,  277,  287,  296, 
299  ;  Motive  of,  Wagner,  288. 

Sieglinde,  Motive  of,  Wagner,  289. 

Significance  in  art,  importance  of, 
xv-xxiii,  232-237. 

Sincerity  in  art,  236. 

Singing,  contrasted  with  speech,  239- 
244  ;  the  Greek,  184,  185,  189. 

Sinking,  as  represented  in  music,  273. 

Siren  of  C.  de  la  Tour,  196. 

Sistine  Madonna,  xvii. 

Sixes  and  fours  metre,  67. 

Size,  as  represented  in  music,  256. 

Sketches  of  Palestine,  III,  112. 

Skylark,  To  the,  64. 

Sleep,  To,  72. 

Sleigh-ride,  as  represented  in  music, 
297. 

Slowness  of  movement,  as  repre- 
sented in  elocution,  254  ;  in  music, 
253-263  ;  in  verse,  44,  59,  60. 

Smith,  S.  T.,  67. 

Snake,  Motive  of,  Wagner,  262. 

Sneezing,   as  represented  in  music, 

279.  317. 
Soldiers'  Chorus,  296. 
Solemnity,  as  represented  in  music, 

296,  308. 
Solfeggio,  188-206. 
Solicitude,  as  represented  in  music, 

294. 
Sonata  in  C,  99  ;  in  D  minor,  97  ;  in 

E  minor,  260. 
Song.     See  Singing. 
Song  of  Clan- Alpine,  56. 
Song  of  Italy,  A,  127. 
Song  on    Downfall   and   Death   of 

Earl  of  Warwick,  123. 
Songs  from  Arcady,  75. 
Sonnet,  70-73 ;  its  Origin,  Structure, 

and  Place  in  Poetey,  71. 


Souvenir,  123. 

Sounds,  musical,  distinguished  from 
noise,  194,  195  ;  congruity  of,  in- 
dicating that  of  sense,  139-143. 

Spain,  alliteration  in  poetry  of,  124  ; 
also  assonance,  129,  131;  the  latter 
as  used  for  rhyme,  131. 

Spanish  Gypsy,  131. 

Speech,  difference  between  it  and 
singing,  239-244  ;  difference  be- 
tween its  tones  and  those  of  music, 
195-197,  237-244  ;  methods  of,  as 
influencing  song  and  music,  91, 
92,  97,  239-244  ;   pitch  in,  169- 

.177. 
Spenser,  24,  69,  71,  116,   126,  130, 

134,  151,  153,  154. 

Spenserian,  Stanza,  36,  37,  69,  71. 

Spondaic,  36. 

Spondee,  27. 

Spontaneous  methods  of  expression 
in  music  and  architecture,  233, 
234. 

Spring,  it  is  cheery,  66. 

Spring  sadness,  83. 

Stabat  Mater,  191. 

Staff,  musical,  94,  182,  183. 

St.  Agnes  Eve,  69. 

Stanza,  57  ;  corresponding  to  musi- 
cal periods,  97-100  ;  definite  types 
of,  67-70  ;  different  forms  of,  61- 

89. 
Stennet,  61. 
St.  Gaudens,  xxi. 
St.  John,  Hymn  to,  188. 
Storm,  as  represented  in  music,  261, 

297,  299  ;  Motive  of,  Wagner,  298. 
Strength,  as  represented  in   music, 

256. 
Studies  from  Biological  Laboratory 

of  Johns  Hopkins  University,  10. 
Style,  relative  importance  in  music 

and   architecture,   as    contrasted 

with  other  arts,  no. 
Subdominant,    chord   of,    210,  211 

214,  215. 
Sublime,    The,     as    represented    in 

music,  308. 
Subject,  in  Painting  and  sculpture 

may  interest  aside  from  style,  no. 

See  Significance. 


342   RHYTHM  AND  HARMONY  IN  POETRY  AND  MUSIC. 


Subjective  method  of  expression  in 
song  and  music,  240,  241,  247, 248. 

Subordination,  art-method,  3  ;  in 
harmony,  musical,  190,  211  ; 
poetic,    120,  143  ;  in  rhythm,  19, 

55,92.    . 

Subordination,  as  represented  by 
music,  266,  275,  286. 

Sullivan,  237,  300. 

Sunrise,  48. 

Surprise,  in  music,  294. 

Suspense,  in  music,  280,  282,  286. 

Sustained  methods  of  expression  in 
music  and  architecture,  234,  239- 
242. 

Syllables,  accented,  5,  18,  20-24 ; 
changes  in  the  numbers  of,  in  lines, 
39,  48  ;  changes  in,  at  the  ends  of 
lines,  44-48  ;  unaccented,  18,  20- 
24. 

Sylvester, Pope,  186,  267 ;  Prof.,  157. 

Symmetry,  art-method,  3,  20,  212. 

Symphony,  description  of  the  plan 
of  a,  310,  311  ;  in  C  minor,  311. 

System  of  English  Versification,  70. 

Swinburne,  iv,  xvi,  xxi,  xxii,  32,  33, 
47,  48,  127,  142,  148,  150,  152, 
165,  236. 

Sword,  Motive  of,  Wagner,  286. 

Sword's  Guardian,  Motive  of,  Wag- 
ner, 287. 

Tale  of  the  Man  of  Law,  67. 

Tannhauser,  297. 

Taming  of  the  Shrew,  158. 

Tarantelle,  104,  105. 

Tasso,  71. 

Tell,  Wm.,  296. 

Tennyson,  20,  40,  47,  48,  50,  61,  62, 

118,  127,  131,  144,  149, 152,  157- 

159,  165,  174,  299,  304. 
Tens  metre,  63. 
Tens  and  elevens  metre,  63. 
Terminal  Measure,  27,  28,  39,  40, 

61-67. 
Terpander,  203. 

Tetrameter,  31-33,  47,  62-64,  66. 
Thackeray,  45. 
The  Great  Bell  Roland,  32. 
The  Harp  that  once  through  Tara's 

Halls,  271. 


Theory  of  musical  education,  105. 

The  Story  of  Prince  Agib,  86. 

Thomas  E.  M.,  78. 

Thought,  as  represented  in  art,  231. 

Thoughtfulness,  as  represented  in 
music,  308  ;  Motive  of,  Wagner, 
288. 

Thread  and  Song,  31. 

Threatening,  as  represented  in 
music,  276. 

Thunder,  as  represented  by  music, 
297,  299. 

Timbre,  180.     See  Quality. 

Time.     See  Duration. 

Timon,  of  Athens,  152. 

Tintern  Abbey,  304. 

Titian,  236. 

To  Cyriack  Skinner,  71. 

Tomlinson,  71. 

Tone,  difference  between  poetic  and 
musical,  175-177;  color-effects  so 
termed,  6,  107.     See  Quality. 

Tones,  prime  and  partial,  169,  170, 
198-200,  208-210,  217-219,  285. 

Tonic,  chord  of,  210,  211,  214,  215. 

Tout  a  la  Joie,  258. 

Transition,  art-method,  3  ;  in  har- 
mony, musical,  212-217  ;  poetic, 
162,  166,  167;  in  rhythm  and 
metre,  59 ;  to  one  key  from 
another,  214-217. 

Triad,  major,  217-220,  225  ;  minor, 
218-220,  225. 

Trifling,  as  represented  in  music, 
254. 

Trimeter,  31,  32,  47,  62. 

Triple  measure,  26-28,  39, 40  ;  com- 
bined with  double,  for  comic 
effects,  86  ;  corresponding  to  ef- 
fects of  curves,  58  ;  musical,  101. 

Tristan,  Motive  of,  Wagner,  289. 

Tristan  und  Isolde,  255,  256,  289, 
296. 

Trite,  The,  as  represented  in  music, 
266,  267,  286. 

Triumph,  as  represented  in  music, 
258. 

Trochaic  measure,  31,  33,  62-67. 

Trochee,  27,  31. 

Troilus  and  Cressida,  130. 

Troubadours  of  Provence,  133. 


INDEX. 


343 


Troubled  Sleep,  as  represented  in 
music,  300 ;  chorus  of,  from 
Iolanthe,  300. 

Trumpet,  295,  296. 

Tunes  of  melody,  developed  from 
intonation,  186  ;  of  poetry  and 
music,  6,  241  ;  including  pitch  of 
verse,  57-59,  170-177. 

Turmoil,  as  represented  in  music, 
261. 

Turner,  C.  T.,  73. 

Twelfth  Night,  158. 

Twelves  metre,  64. 

Two  Gentlemen  of  Verona,  158. 

Two  Voices,  61,  165. 

Unaccented  syllables,  18,  20-24,  39> 

48  ;    must  differ  in  sound  from 

accented,  1 18-120,  172,  173. 
Uncertainty,      as     represented      in 

music,  276. 
Underwoods,  137. 
Unimpeded,  The,  as  represented  in 

music,  281. 
Unity,  art-method,  3  ;  in  harmony, 

musical,    179,   185,    211  ;   poetic, 

139,  144  ;  in  rhythm,  15,  38,  92, 

no,  in,  113. 
Unsatisfactory  effects,  as  represented 

in  music,  282-290. 
Unsustained  expression  as  in  poetry, 

painting,  and  sculpture,  234,  239, 

240. 
Upward   and  downward  movement 

of    pitch    on     words     owing    to 

accent,  57,   58,   172,  173. 
Utterances  of  speech  and  song,  239- 

248. 

Van  Raalte,  A..  305. 

Variety,  art-method,  3,  in  harmony, 
musical,  179,  poetical,  137-161  ;  in 
rhythm,  16,  38,  39  ;  in  versifica- 
tion, of  measure  and  line,  38-92  ; 
musical,  103. 

Vega,  Lope  de,  124,  129. 

Vehemence,  as  represented  in  music, 
256. 

Venice,  262. 

Venus  and  Adonis,  66. 

Venus  music  in  Tannhauser,  297. 


Verse,  blank,  34,  42-44  ;  Chinese, 
135,  141;  French  forms  of,  72-84; 
irregular  blank  verse,  42-44. 

Versification,  caused  by  accent  or 
quantity,  2 1-24 ;  English , compared 
with  classic  methods  of,  21-24. 

Vibrations,  as  causing  harmony  of 
sound  and  color,  108,  109:  causing 
musical  pitch,  194-198  ;  forms  of, 
as  causing  quality,  196,  197  ; 
psychological  and  physical  reasons 
for  their  musical  effects,  221-228  ; 
regularly  recurring,  causing  musi- 
cal sounds,  194,  195. 

Victory,  as  represented  in  music, 
296. 

Villanelle,  77,  78. 

Vindictive  League,  motive  of, 
Wagner,  288. 

Violin,  what  it  represents,  295,  297, 
299. 

Virelai,  83. 

Virgil,  34,  123,  128,  133,  150. 

Vision  of  Piers  Plowman,  125. 

Wace,  129,  133. 

Waddington,  S.,  76. 

Wagner,    186,    237,  254,  261,   263, 

269,  276-278,  286-289,  296,  297, 

321-323. 
Wailing,   as  represented  in  music, 

300  ;  chorus  from  Iolanthe,  300. 
Waidteufel,  E.,  259,  260. 
Walker's  Rhyming  Dictionary,  125, 

140, 
Walkure,  Motive  of,  Wagner,  261  ; 

opera,  261,  270,    276,    287,    289, 

297. 
Walsungen      family,      Motive     of, 

Wagner,    289. 
Waltz,  104,  260. 

Wandering  Knight's  Song,  The,  41. 
Water,  Motive  of,  Wagner,  262. 
Watts,  62. 
Watson,  J.  W.,  31. 
Wave,  or  circumflex  inflection,  rep- 
resentation of,  274,  275. 
Weakness,  as  represented  in  music 

256,  281,  282. 
Weber,  105,  317. 
Welcome,  The,  174. 


344  RHYTHM  AND  HARMONY  IN  POETRY  AND  MUSIC. 


Werner's  Magazine,  305. 
Werther's,     Leiden,     etc.,    Goethe, 

xiii,  xv. 
Wesley,  C,  62. 
West,  B.,  236. 
Wheeler,  G.  P.,  114. 
Whips,  cracking  of,  in  music,  297. 
Whistle,  and  I  '11  come  to  you,  174. 
Whistles,   as   represented  in  music, 

297. 
Whitman,  W.,  xxi,  xxii,  HI. 
Willems,  F.,  236. 

William  of  Cloudsley,  Ballad  of,  131. 
Wind,  as  represented  in  music,  297. 
Winter's  Tale,  The,  51. 
Wishes  for  the  Supposed  Mistress,  61. 
Wolzogen,  H.  von,  255,  297. 


Wordsworth,  xvii,    50,    71,   72,  85, 

130^  173,  304. 
World's  Heritage  Motive,  Wagner, 

287.  , 
Worship,   as  represented  in  music, 

308. 
Writer,  The,  114. 
Wyatt,  T.,  46,  47. 

Yawning,  as  represented  in  music, 

279,  317. 
Yearning,  289. 
Yerrington,  E.  M.,  305. 
Yielding    effect,    as   represented  in 

music,  259. 

Zola,  xviii. 


POEMS  BY  PROF.  GEO.  L.  RAYMOND 

A  Life  in  Song.     i6°,  cloth  extra,  gilt  top         ....    $1.25 

M  Mr.  Raymond  is  a  poet,  with  all  that  the  name  implies.  He  has  the  true  fire — there  is 
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versification  is  true,  the  meter  correct,  and  .  .  .  affords  innumerable  quotations  to  fortify 
and  instruct  one  for  the  struggles  of  life." — Hartford  Post. 

M  Marked  by  a  fertility  and  strength  of  imagination  worthy  of  our  first  poets.  .  .  .  The 
versification  throughout  is  graceful  and  thoroughly  artistic,  the  imagery  varied  and  spon- 
taneous, .  .  .  the  multitude  of  contemporary  bardlings  may  find  in  its  sincerity  of  pur- 
pose and  loftiness  of  aim  a  salutary  inspiration." —  The  Literary  World  (Boston). 

"  Original  and  noble  thoughts,  gracefully  put  into  verse.  .  .  .  Mr.  Raymond  thoroughly 
understands  the  true  poet's  science,  man." — The  Literary  World  (London). 

"  Here,  for  instance,  are  lines  which,  if  printed  in  letters  of  gold  on  the  front  of  every 
pulpit,  and  practised  by  every  one  behind  one,  would  transform  the  face  of  the  theological 
world.  ...  In  short,  if  you  are  in  search  of  ideas  that  are  unconventional  and  up-to-date, 
get  'A  Life  in  Song,'  and  read  it." — Unity. 

"  The  poet  has  '  a  burden '  as  conscious  and  urgent  as  the  prophet  of  old.  His  is  a 
'story  with  a  purpose,'  and  very  deftly  and  effectively  is  it  sung  into  the  ear  of  the  cap- 
tivated listener.  .  .  .  Wonderful  versatility  and  mastery  of  the  poetic  art  are  shown  in 
the  manipulation  of  speech  to  the  service  of  thought.  .  .  .  Professor  Raymond  has  re- 
vealed a  metrical  genius  of  the  highest  order." — The  Watchman. 

"A  remarkably  fine  study  of  the  hopes,  aspirations,  and  disappointments  of  .  .  .  an 
American  modern  life.  ...  Is  not  only  dramatic  in  tendency,  but  is  singularly  realis- 
tic and  acute.  .  .  .  The  volume  will  appeal  to  a  large  class  of  readers  by  reason  of  its 
clear,  musical,  flexible  verse,  its  fine  thought,  and  its  intense  human  interest." — Boston 
Transcript. 

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"  Notable  examples  of  what  may  be  wrought  of  native  material  by  one  who  has  a  taste- 
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Boston  Globe. 

"A  very  unusual  success,  a  success  to  which  genuine  poetic  power  has  not  more  con- 
tributed than  wide  reading  and  extensive  preparation.  The  ballads  overflow,  not  only 
with  the  general,  but  with  the  very  particular  truths  of  history." — Cincinnati  Times. 

"A  work  of  true  genius,  brimful  of  imagination  and  sweet  humanity." — The  Fireside 
(London). 

M  Fine  and  strong,  its  thought  original  and  suggestive,  while  its  expression  is  the  very 
perfection  of  narrative  style.'  — The  N.  Y.  Critic. 

"  Proves  beyond  doubt  that  Mr.  Raymond  is  the  possessor  of  a  poetic  faculty  which  is 
worthy  of  the  most  careful  and  conscientious  cultivation." — N.  Y.  Evening  Post. 

"A  very  thoughtful  study  of  character  .  .  .  great  knowledge  of  aims  and  motives.  .  .  . 
Such  as  read  this  poem  will  derive  from  it  a  benefit  more  lasting  than  the  mere  pleasure  of 
the  moment." — The  Spectator  (London). 

"Mr.  Raymond  is  a  poet  emphatically,  and  not  a  scribbler  in  rhyme." — Literary 
Churchman  (London). 

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lodious expression  of  art  both  from  the  artistic  and  poetic  point  of  view.  .  .  ._  Mr. 
Raymond's  power  is  above  all  that  of  psychologist,  and  added  thereto  are  the  richest 
products  of  the  imagination  both  in  form  and  spirit.  The  book  clearly  discloses  the  work 
of  a  man  possessed  of  an  extremely  refined  critical  poise,  of  a  culture  pure  and  classical, 
and  a  sensitive  conception  of  what  is  sweetest  and  most  ravishing  in  tone-quality.  The 
most  delicately  perceptive  ear  could  not  detect  a  flaw  in  the  mellow  and  rich  music  of  the 
blank  verse." — Public  Opinion. 

".  .  .  The  plot  is  exceedingly  interesting  and  well  executed.  .  .  .  It  is  careful 
work,  strong  and  thoughtful  in  its  conception." — Worcester  Spy. 

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loftiness  of  conception." — Cleveland  World. 

"There  are  countless  quotable  passages  in  Professor  Raymond's  fine  verse.  .  .  . 
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ature will  find  the  book  deserving  of  careful  study." — Toledo  Blade. 

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some praise.  The  character  of  the  great  discoverer  is  portrayed  grandly  and  greatly. 
.  .  .  It  is  difficult  to  conceive  how  anyone  who  cares  for  that  which  is  best  in  litera- 
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OTHER  WORKS  BY  PROF.  GEO.  L.  RAYMOND 
The  Essentials  of  iEsthetics.    8vo.     Illustrated        .         .    Net,  $2.50 

This  work,  which  is  mainly  a  compendium  of  the  author's  system  of  Comparative 
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book, and  for  readers  whose  time  is  too  limited  to  study  the  minutiae  of  the  subject. 

"  We  consider  Professor  Raymond  to  possess  something  like  an  ideal  equipment.  .  .  . 
His  own  poetry  is  genuine  and  delicately  constructed,  his  appreciations  are  true  to  high 
ideals,  and  his  power  of  scientific  analysis  is  unquestionable.'  .  .  .  He  "was  known, 
when  a  student  at  Williams,  as  a  musician  and  a  poet — the  latter  because  of  taking,  in  his 
freshman  year,  a  prize  in  verse  over  the  whole  college.  After  graduating  in  this  country, 
he  went  through  a  course  of  aesthetics  with  Professor  Vischer  of  the  University  of  Tu- 
bingen, and  also  with  Professor  Curtius  at  the  time  when  that  historian  of  Greece  was 
spending  several  hours  a  week  with  his  pupils  among  the  marbles  of  the  Berlin  Museum. 
Subsequently,  believing  that  all  the  arts  are,  primarily,  developments  of  different  forms 
of  expression  through  the  tones  and  movements  of  the  body,  Professor  Raymond  made  a 
thorough  study,  chiefly  in  Paris,  of  methods  of  cultivating  and  using  the  voice  in  both 
singing  and  speaking,  and  of  representing  thought  and  emotion  through  postures  and 
gestures.  It  is  a  result  of  these  studies  that  he  afterwards  developed,  first,  into  his 
methods  of  teaching  elocution  and  literature"  (as  embodied  in  his  'Orator's  Manual' 
and  '  The  Writer  ')  "  and  later  into  his  aesthetic  system.  ...  A  Princeton  man  has  said 
of  him  that  he  has  as  keen  a  sense  for  a  false  poetic  element  as  a  bank  expert  for  a 
counterfeit  note ;  and  a  New  York  model  who  posed  for  him,  when  preparing  illustrations 
for  one  of  his  books,  said  that  he  was  the  only  man  that  he  had  ever  met  who  could 
invariably,  without  experiment,  tell  him  at  once  what  posture  to  assume  in  order  to  rep- 
resent any  required  sentiment." — New  York  Times. 

"So  lucid  in  expression  and  rich  in  illustration  that  every  page  contains  matter  of  deep 
interest  even  to  the  general  reader." — Boston  Herald. 

"  Its  superior  in  an  effective  all-round  discussion  of  its  subject  is  not  in  sight." 

The  Outlook  (N.  Y.) 
"  Dr.  Raymond's  book  will  be  invaluable.    He  shows  a  knowledge  both  extensive  and 
exact  of  the  various  fine  arts  and  accompanies  his  ingenious  and  suggestive  theories  by 
copious  illustrations." — The  Scotsman  (Edinburgh). 

Published  by  G.  P.  PUTNAM'S  SONS,  27  West  23d  St.,  New  York. 


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An  attempt  to  distinguish  Religious  from  Scientific  Truth  and  to  Harmonize  Chris- 
tianity with  Modern  Thought. 

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its  psychological  position  is  "new  and  valuable  ;  Dr.  W.  T.  Harris,  late  United  States 
Commissioner  of  Education,  says  that  it  is  sure  "to  prove  helpful  to  many  who  find  them- 
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desert  and  the  town.  The  sane,  fair,  kindly  attitude  taken  gives  of  itself  a  profitable  les- 
son. The  author  proves  conclusively  that  his  mind — and  if  his,  why  not  another  ? — can 
be  at  one  and  the  same  time  sound,  sanitary,  scientific,  and  essentially  religious." — The 
Examiner,  Chicago. 

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pass  in  the  history  of  Christianity." — The  Arena,  Boston. 

"  The  author  has  taken  up  a  task  calling  for  heroic  effort;  and  has  given  us  a  volume 
worthy  of  careful  study.     .     .     .     The  conclusion  is  certainly  very  reasonable." 

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Published  by  FUNK  &  WAGNALLS  COMPANY,  44  East  23d  St.,  New  York. 


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